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Full text of "How a one-legged Rebel lives, or, A history of the 52nd Virginia Regiment. Incidents in the life of the writer, during and since the close of the war. Concluding with a biographical sketch of John [i.e. William] Randolph Barbee, the distinguished Virginia sculptor"

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Entered according to Act of Congresp, October 11th, 1876, by 


In the Office of the Libraiian of Congress, at Washington, D. O. 




B2nd Virginia Regiment. 









?Cf ^' ^-^^Gp.. 








FEBRUARY, 1865. ' 




This book is not written because there is any apparent 
need of such a work, nor yet at the solicitation of friends, 
though their kind suggestions have influenced me, in part, 
but because I have an object in writing it, and that object is 
the money I expect to obtain from its sale. I am not selfish 
enough to believe it will be read, much less purchased by all, 
for such is not the fate of the best of books, and many good 
books find but few readers and fewer purchasers, nor do I 
hope to add much in the way of literature by my little 
pamphlet, yet I do not expect to fail altogether in giving 
something in return for what shall be paid me. 

In its preparation 1 have been at some expense and a 
good deal of trouble, but at the same time, I have received 
much encouragement from my fellow-countrymen who have 
liberally aided me out of their means to have my book pub- 

To these generous persons I return my heartfelt thanks, 
and hope through their kindmess to be enabled to do some- 
thing for myself. I will do my own canvassing and employ 
no agents in its sale. Could I find employment in any way, 
I assure my readers I would not resort to authorship, but in 
these days of depression, when so many young and willing 
persons, sound of body and whole in limb, are out of em- 
ployment and can find nothing to do, my chances are hope- 
less indeed. For hard and laborious work, I am physically 
unfit and few would be willing to pay me reasonable wages 


when tliey can command the choice out of the best laborers. 
But I expect many will read my little book and not regret 
the small sum paid in its purchase. Some will read it, as 
they do other books, by borrowing it of those who buy, and 
these I anticipate will be my most severe and censorious 
critics, as is generally the case,* and will see in it but little 
merit. But such is human nature, the world over, and 
such the fate of better books than mine, whose merits, 
which I do not claim for mine, have been no proof against 
the unkind and gratuitous criticism of that class of readers 
who gain the opportunity for criticism through the gratui- 
tous kindness of the purchasers. This happens to new works, 
but we, by no means, wish to disparage the friendly inter- 
change of literature between friends ; we would rather en- 
courage it, as it is productive of great good by the diffusion 
of knowledge. 

It is not the borrowing then of which we speak, but it is 
the criticism, w^hich experience says is almost certain to be 
the severest from the borrowers, and the reason is to be found 
in the fact that they w^iose generosity prompts them to buy 
my book, will have enough of that milk of human kindness 
left, not to pass upon it too severely, nor censure too rigidly 
the book they were kind enough to buy, by way of helping 
a One Legged Kebel. 

So far as we know, this is the first effort of the kind made in 
this part of the State, perhaps in Virginia, and we may there- 
fore claim for it novelty, and also the satisfaction that we 
are not adding our claims to any of a similar character here- 
tofore made, nor distressing mj friends by following in an 
old track by the adding of importunate demands upon their 


I only hope, however, to be successful as an humble one 
of the many good and brave men, who, maimed by the war 
in the loss of a limb, have been thereby rendered unable to 
do equal battle, in the strife of the world, with the strong 
and more fortunate of my fellow-soldiers. True, I have 
been no idler, even though I am a cripple, and to within a 
few months, have been employed one way or another as op- 
portunity offered. My success has been fair at times, and 
then again I have lost the little saved by the misfortunes of 
others. I do not wish to be a burden on friends or relatives, 
even though the latter were able to support me, but when 
fortunes have been scattered and the rich ruined by the fell 
hand of war, it is but fair to add that my relatives suffered 
too, and hence are unable to give me that aid or advance 
my business interests in any sphere for which 1 am fitted. 
Hence, I have resolved to sell my book in the hope thereby 
to be able to obtain an amount sufficient to set me np in 
some business by which I may make my own living. This 
^s what I ask, and this I honestly hope to reach through the 
generosity of the many who will be willing to pay such a 
price for my book as will leave me a fair per centage on its 

My book pretends to nothing save the merit of its being 
written in the hope of doing no harm if it does no good. 
It is not methodical in its arrangement nor connected in 
its divisions, being mainly composed of thoughts and 
sketches, and a little of history. I think I may now w^ith 
safety and propriety say of my little book, that the buyer 
will not altogether have lost his money. I only wish it were 
a better one and more entertaining as well as interesting, 
and of a higher literary degree of merit. I now submit 


what has been written to a kind and generous public, with 

no greater solicitude than that which is felt by one who 

desires his work may meet with a favorable reception and 

so much of popular favor as may result in the reasonable 

pecuniary return for the purpose in view. In conclusion, 

as the quacks say of their nostrum, if it does no good, it 

can't possibly do much harm, as the dose is too liomoea- 

pathic in quantity, and this a good deal more than can truly 

be said of many of our publications which are [both paid for 

and read. 




1 have long contemplated giving to the public, in a book, 
my experience as a Southern soldier in the late war, and the 
kind and manner of my life since. At its close, in addi- 
tion to the penniless condition of the majority of them, I 
found myself even worse off than tlie most of those who, 
without employment, were unfitted, from their long stay in 
camp and in the field, for a while at least, to resume the 
quiet and laborious pursuits of life. Whilst they had escaped 
the fearful ordeal and returned to their homes in the enjoy- 
ment of health, and sound in body, I was one of that large 
and unfortunate class who in the place of a once good leg, 
had that useful member replaced by a bogus representative, 
and a very bad one too; made out of good sound oak, and 
which by some, is quaintly denominated a " timber toe." 

Like that celebrated hero of whom the poet speaks, my 
fix is represented in the lines : 

Ben Battle was a soldier brave, 
And used to wars alarms ; 
But a cannon-ball took off his leg, 
So, he laid down his arms. 

If then to those who escaped this or other mutilations of 
body, the return of peace offered no easy road to life 
and its enjoyments, what was it to those who left a limb on 
some one of the many hard-fought fields of battle, or per- 


haps two ; or, escaping this, had lost health in the prolonged 
struggle, and, helpless to take care of themselves, returned 
to be but a care to family or friends ? Great as are the 
enormities of war, whilst opposing forces are marching 
and contending, and meeting but to renew the last fight 
and offer another bloody ovation to the insatiate Mars, or to 
strew a fresh earth w^ith the sacrificed and mangled bodies 
of their fellow-men, these great as they are, are but the 
first that attend upon the meeting of forces following them; 
but still the direct issue and result, are the homes destroyed, 
the families dismembered, the bankrupt citizen and State ; 
a demoralized and demoralizing society, and the entire 
social organism infected with new and untried disease. 

Then, too, there are those whom the sword spared only to 
be consigned to a less speedy but equally certain death, at 
the hands of those diseases which walk in the wake of 
armies and strike down the victims in rank and file, long 
after the grounding of arms and peace has returned to 
bless the land. They fall no less the victims of war, than 
they who, struck down in the din of the strife, breathe out 
their last, with arms in hand, in sight of the foe, who sent 
the death dealing lead. But theirs is even a worse lot, who 
having fought well and bravely, unstruck by the darts they 
did not fear and the foe before whom they never quailed, 
are reserved for future victims to fell disease, the seeds of 
which were sown even in the manly and heroic discharge 
of those duties for which a soldier is called by a threatened 
country. Their lodgment he could not displace by the 
exhibition of that patriotic courage and heroic bravery 
which brings victory to the standard, and against which 
opposing forces cannot withstand. These do not die on the 
field of battle, but on that field were begun the attacks 
which were in the more peaceful walks of life to claim 
them, and to which they were to yield that life which 
often exposed, had escaped the attacks of their human 
foes, whom on many a hotly fought field they met and 

They return to their homes to spend a few months, per- 
haps years, broken down and their health gone, unfitted to 
do battle for their own support, and often a care upon those 
whose time and efforts, divided between a strife for their 
own and the bread of the helpless soldier, give but a pre- 
carious and doubtful supply to either ; and after a short and 
suffering trial at the home they so bravely defended, and 
with those with wdiom they stood and fought, fall a prey to 
the last dreaded enemy whose victory over them, aided by 
so sure an ally, was easily gained. 

Again, thousands of sturdy veterans, once proud in their 
manly perfection and strong in their patriotic devotion, 
resume their places on the arena of life, with a part of their 
own dear selves, a leg or an arm, and sometimes both, 
buried in the earth they moistened with their blood and 
g.^ne to decay on the fields forever made memorable, in a 
war almost unparalleled in modern history for its length, 
and the remarkable endurance and energy displayed in its 
prosecution on the one side, and the untiring resistance 
under so many and great difticulties and embarrassments, 
so resolutely manifested on the other. Many of these 
educated in the pursuits of life fitted to their tastes as 
means of livelihood, now no longer able to resume their for- 
mer avocations, for one leg or one arm cannot do the duty of 
two, and incapacitated by the loss, obliged to change their 
trades and go through the severe ordeal of a second appren- 
ticeship, frequently at none or nominal wages, and alwaj^s at 
unremunerative prices, for a period till skill and education 
in their new pursuit placed them at a fair advantage with 
others similarly employed, if perchance, their loss was of 
such a character as not to operate against their advance- 
ment and skill. Added to this, and by no means the least 
of the disadvantages these maimed soldiers and members 
of a selfish and bustling world labored under, was tlie fact 
that in their loss, taste and inclination, those almost certain 
allies to successers, could not be consulted in the choice, but 
no longer the arbitus of their own fortunes, a maxim w^hich if 

good at all, can only be so in the case of a perfect body, 
a Sana mens in sano corpore, the choice, if choice it could 
be called, when but a certain few out of the many avenues 
to a living were open to them, they must take that which 
they were fitted for under their changed and narrowed con- 
dition. Physical deformity barred them from pursuing 
what inclination might suggest, and unlike their more for- 
tunate companions, they must seek what they could do and 
not that they would like to do. This is the position of the 
maimed soldiers ; and an unfortunate one, indeed, for one 
of the lords of creation ; for, in an sesthetical point of view, 
a man with one of his legs or an arm in the grave before 
its fellow, is as much one of the veriest lords of creation, as 
he who, equally bound by the ties of birth and kindred as 
well as through a national love of countr}^ to help fight the 
battles of Fatherland in company with those of his county 
and State, prefers rather to stay at home and refuse to go 
to the front, and now when all is again quiet and the cry of 
war is no longer heard in the land, perambulates the earth 
he did nothing to save, perfect in limb and filled with all 
the due consequences of one of the lords of creation. 
More than this, the legless and the armless hero is as good 
a lord as the truest and noblest one, who right honorably 
and well deserves that distinguished honor, be he king, 
potentate or person. Then, too, what if our maimed sol- 
dier, in addition to his own three-quarters self, had a family 
who looked to him for the staff of life — not that staff which, 
culled from some forest, and shaped into a grim representa- 
tive of a part of his person, imperfectly supplies his dead 
and forsaken member — but the staff which alone keeps soul 
and body together. True, this timber-toe is a right good 
and proper staff to him, and on it he may rely as a help by 
which to go forth and seek for the other ; still what is to 
come to this family, whilst again learning a trade or educa- 
ting himself in some restricted avenue, made necessary in 
his change of condition ? 

This is no fancy picture, nor one invoked for sensational 
purpose. Alas ! the history of the late war provides us 
only with too many of these real and substantial pictures of 
facts, and there is no occasion for us, or any who dwell on 
the horrors of war, to make use of any fanciful or unreal ones. 
1^0 other coloring is needed, save the simple and un- 
adorned one of truth. Examples are only too many on both 
sides of the question, North and South, and facts, stubborn 
and unyielding facts, that show the simple truth is bad 

History already written is full of them — that which is 
yet to come and that which must remain forever untold, 
would fill volumes that for all good purposes are best 
buried in the oblivion which will never see the light. 

But we have to do in these pages with other and brighter 
pictures. Our hero, if such I should call myself, and I 
only do so for want of a better title — our hero, or one like 
him, is to be found in almost every town, village and ham- 
let in this broad country. There are plenty of them in our 
own fair and beautiful county of Rappahannock, and I 
only claim to be a representative, however humble an one, 
of a large and unfortunate class. Indeed, my more than 
equal is to be seen, for there are those who fared even 
worse than myself, and instead of one, left two limbs on 
the bloody field. To these are left still fewer of the means 
for obtaining food and raiment. One favorite resort for 
these American Santa Annas have been the banks, counting 
houses and other clerical avocations ; and, hence, wooden 
legs and timber-toes became well known ornaments to these 
places; but now, since so many banks have broken and 
ofiices closed, new spheres must be again sought. These 
places were eagerly sought by this class of war's unfortu- 
nates, and whilst the owners occupied the chair and plied 
the pen, the stumps gracefully stood in some convenient 
corner, (more than their owners could well do without them) 
ready to perform their special ofiice. Again, all who had 
not the full complement of legs could not depend upon 

their arms in clerical callings, because of unfitness by edu- 
cation : and hence, great was the ingenuity displayed and the 
skill evinced in accommodating themselves to pursuits and 
callings often as novel as ingenious. 

Unfortunatelv, however, all are not so versatile in their 
talents nor enegetic in their natures, and the misfortunes 
which one would turn to good account and transfer into a 
blessing by this happy spirit of accommodation to change, 
might, in all probability, work the utter discomfiture of 
others less happily gifted by nature. This versatility of 
mind and talent, as well as of our physical functions, is 
one of these incomprehensible mysteries for which there- is 
no solution and which follow no known law. It is, therefore, 
no evidence of demerit on the part of a One Legged Eebel to 
know he has shown none of this great and happy faculty of 
versatility in accommodating himself to changes over which 
he had no control. It is all a matter of taste and gift, and 
both, we know recognize no law, nor do tribute to any gen- 
erally fixed rule. Hence, we ought not to condemn those 
whose misfortunes, of itself, may have paralyzed that energy 
so inseparable to deserved success, nor attribute to neglect 
what may be due to the force of unavoidable, at least, una- 
Yoided circumstances. Some will grow rich on the most 
sterile and rocky land, whilst others will become poor on 
the best and finest of farms. Should we attempt this 
unkind rule of judging those who are possessed of so much 
less tact than ourselves, we would fall into error, for how 
manv there are whose lives have fallen in pleasant places, 
and whose broad acres and heavy purses, not the work 
and result of their own labor, who robbed of this wealth by 
some such luck as a soldier loses his leg, would fall back 
stricken of spirit and unnerved, and utterly unable to join 
thatlarcje armv who do dailv battle for bread and raiment? 
All minds are not alike, and what would paralyze one 
would only be an incentive for redoubled action with 
another, taste and tact are two great moral levers — their 
absence constitutes no demerit. 


When the war of 1S61 beo-an, I had left the villao^e of 
Woodville, in the county of Rappahaunockj where I had 
spent many a happy day in tlie society of the good people of 
that charming county, and was pursuing my studies as a 
student at the Academy at Mossy Creek, in the county of 
Augusta, one of the best and finest of that noble stretch of 
fertile land, known far and near as the Valley of Virginia. 
Here too^ether with a larg-e number of students under the 
guidance of Prof. Thomas White, aided by a corps of eflicient 
teachers, I was just beginning to make a fair start up the 
ascent to Parnassus, which was shortly to be so rudely stepped, 
and, unhappily for me, not to be again renewed. Here, in 
this quiet and prosperous valley, the long anticipated news 
reached us that that strus^o-le which could not be checked, 
had actually beo-un, and armed forces were on the march for 
purposes of invasion into our own dear and sacred State. 
Fired with all the pride, of birth and enthusiasm which in- 
spired our youth, I left the classic shades at that momen- 
tous period in our history, and no longer able to pursue 
studies which must be neglected in a state of such general 
excitement and joined a company that was raising in Augusta. 
The tocsin of war was sounding and the busy din of prepara- 
tion was heard on all sides. Eager and excited groups were 
discussing the state of affairs, and on every hand might be 
seen the beginning of what was to prove a long and disastrous 
war. I was at that time but little over fifteen years of age, and 
found it absolutely impossible to pay that attention to studies 
so necessary to their successful prosecution. It was under 
the great and absorbing excitement of that time, so well re- 
membered, and which we cannot now recall without re- 
gretting the causes which led to such unfortunate conflict, 
that we doffed the academic robes and donning the garb of 
the soldier bov. started off to the wars. 


Would that milder councils had then prevailed, and that 
in our future may our progress never again be staid and our 
prospects blighted by another resort of kings to the arbitra- 
ment of the sword — a decision of differences at once selfish 
and incomplete. Principles, like truth, are not always on 
the prevailing side or in the ranks of the heavier artillery, 
yet they are none the less eternal in that they did not pre- 

It is one of the inscrutable mysteries we cannot fathom, for 
it is indeed rare to see either men, armies or nations, who in 
their differences of opinion, whether the same lead to actual 
strife and conflict or not, "^vho do not invariably claim that 
the principles for which they contend and the truths they 
strive to maintain are the true principles and principal truths, 
and controversy and conflict seldom do more than to widen 
the distance between the parties. It is the same with our 
social and political economists. Statesmen wlio differ and 
honestly contend for measures of government, though they 
become leaders of party and strengthen by numbers its ad- 
herents, do not, because they do lead and are followed, estab- 
lish by numbers either the principle or truth of what they 
represent — and the success of party merely does establish 
the weight and power there is and necessarily must be in 
the preponderance of numbers and of majorities. 

Since, then, the weight of numbers can carry a good as 
well as a bad measure, so can the overpow^ering numbers in 
rank and file, aided by equal skill and science, wdiich for the 
sake of comparison should be the same, break down and put 
to flight an inferior enemy. Yet having done so, no argu- 
ment proving the conquerer alone was right in that for which 
he contended, and the conquered wrong, can be educed. 

So far from this, the contrary may be the truth, though 
it did not then prevail, nor can right prevail over might, 
all things else being equal, save as an exception w^rought 
through Divine interposition. But these are questions 
of ethics which belong to philosophers ; they are impalpa- 
ble and impractical. Once angered and determined, people 


resolve to try the hazard of inferior against superior num- 
bers: On the 16th of June, 1861, being very young and 
inexperienced, I connected myself with Company D of the 
62nd Virginia Regiment, at that time commanded by 
that great and eminent Virginian, Col. John B. Baldwin of 
Staunton. He was a noble man, a heroic soldier and a patri- 
otic and learned lover of his country, and, at the breaking 
out of the war, at the head of the Staunton Bar, tlien and 
now celebrated for its array of talent and eloquence. 

But it was alike impossible to keep the lawyer in his 
office, the student at his books, and the artist and mechanic 
at his work. All the youth of the State with rare excep- 
tions and without distinction of caste or position, eagerly 
hastened to the arm}^ that was then being rapidly augmented 
from all parts of the South, operations clearly indicating 
that the principal seat of operations would be confined to 
the Northern portions of the Old Dominion. When it was 
certainly known war w^as inevitable, the great majority of 
Virginians who felt the progress of events could not longer 
be stayed, and whose efforts had been made for the preserva 
tion of the Union and for peace, now yielded to what must 
be, and loving their State with that ardor that has made it 
the mother of States and of Statesmen, joined in the struggle 
when neutrality meant disaffection. When the ordinance 
was finally passed, after so long deliberation, the State was 
no longer a divided one in sentiment and feeling, but pre 
sented almost an entire unanimity on the great and moment- 
ous question of that memorable period. 

All was enthusiasm and excitement, and young and old 
hurried with eager unanimity to join the forces already in 
the field, and the exceptions were so few that in some coun- 
ties not a single vote was cast to break the general unity of 
sentiment. The point of rendezvous was the town of Har- 
per's Ferry, in the county of Jefferson, on the Southern bank 
of the Potomac, then in the State of Virginia but now 
the richest and finest in the youngest of the many States 
given out of the broad domains of the Old Dominion to 


the general government for its good ; now, in "West Vir- 
ginia, the last State, not given bj the mother of States, but 
torn from her during the labors of a terribly suffering 
ordeal. Mj parents lived then as they now do, in the good 
old county of Rappahannock, one of the long belt of counties 
binding upon the eastern slope of the Blue Ridge Moun- 
tains, a chain that extends some seven States, from the coal 
and iron fields of the Key Stone State far down to the 
cotton plantations of Georgia, connecting two distant coun- 
tries so different in climate, products and the habits and 
customs of their people. These mountains form the back 
ground of a beautiful countiy, whose inhabitants are known 
for their thorough Virginia character, their prodigal hospi- 
tality and the beautv, o^race and loveliness of her women. 
Here and there, as these high mountains wind their vast 
length along, may be seen some high and towering peak 
which lifts its green top far above the general line, and 
stands like some gigantic sentinel among the clouds of 
heaven. We know nothing of the beauties of European 
scenery, but here in the county of Ila]_")pahannock the lover 
of nature may gaze on scenes and beauties which might 
well satisfy him, and no trip to other countries could prob- 
ably offer grander and more imposing ones than can be found 
in the mountains and valleys of the State. A visit to 
Mary's Rock, which, like all other noted places, has its his- 
tory and its legend, will well repay the pains and fatigue of 
a trip to its high and towering top, one of the highest 
perhaps along the whole line of the Blue Ridge in the 
State. Here the eye can see for manv miles a vast stretch 
of country that lies far below, dotted by the houses of the 
thrifty and generous people of Rappahannock. 

This county is one of the best irrigated in the State. 
There can scarcelv be found a farm throuo^h which some 
branch does not pass, and in almost every field may be 
found a spring of the best of water. Its people were then 
a happy, industrious and prosperous one, fond of their 
county and devoted in their allegiance to the State, of 


wMch they were jastlv proud. No county made a quicker 
or readier response to the call of the State than did the 
hardy sons of Rappahannock, and none withstood the trials 
and changes of that period with a greater strength, firm- 
ness, and patient sacrifice than did her sons and daughters. 

They cheerfully gave of their substance, they contributed 
a full share of soldiers, and her daughters, with a grand 
and sublime self-sacrificing spirit, aided and encouraged by 
their devotion and beautiful ministrations, a cause that 
could never have lived throus^h so lono^ a time of adverse 
surroundings as it did, without the sublime fortitude and 
Spartan courage of the fair and peerless daughters of the 
Sunny South. All honor and praise to them ; they are 
doubly honored in the duties done, the sacrifices made and 
the heroism displayed in a time that so sorely tried the 
souls of men ; and the brightest page in all that eventful 
historv is the one udou which will be recorded the deeds 
and sacrifices, the suffering and ministrations of the good 
and s^entle dauo^hters of this our o^lorious Old Common- 
wealth. Happy the State, thrice happy the land, which is 
blessed by the o^entle and holv infiuences of such women as 
they of the sunny clime of the South proved themselves to 
be throughout the trying times of our late war. The part 
they bore and the influence exercised by them was at no 
time abated, and in many a dark and sfloomv hour when all 
was shaded by deep gloom, their holy fortitude rose supe- 
rior to the hour, and men once more threw off the depres- 
sion that had almost possessed them, when they saw the 
pure and glorious stand taken by the women of the South, 
and again they went forth, newly nerved for other and 
heavier trials. From the bes^inninoj to the sad endinor thev 
were the ablest and truest allies to the men in the field. 

Their influences aided in filling depleted ranks, and 
2:ave renewed ardor and endurance to the sufferino^ soldier. 
Xo sacrifice so great they did not cheerfully endure, no 
trials of their strength so heavy they did not willingly 
undergo, and whether in the hour of defeat or of victory, 


they were tlie same true, grand and sacrificing spirits. They 
gave up their husbands, their fathers, their sons, and their 
brothers with a heartfelt prayer for their safety and suc- 
cess ; and in the same spirit dispensed with the luxuries so 
usual with them, and ever ready to yield their jewels to the 
coffers that good might come to the cause they so dearly 
loved. History will be searched, but searched in vain, for 
their equals are not to be found ; and though the glory that 
surrounds the Spartans, wlio gave their tresses for bow 
strings to their husbands and sons, has come down to us 
from the past as the grandest that liad ever surrounded the 
deeds of woman, yet, it was reserved to the daugliters of the 
South to furnish the greater, and truer, and purer exempli- 
fication of woman's self-devotion to principles in the war 
that ended upon tlie fatal fields of historic Appomattox. All 
honor to the men who did so well, but none the less to the 
women who aided them by the holy power of their strong 


Tlie county of Rappahannock, one of the Piedmont 
Region, was once a part of Culpeper, from which it was 
taken some years ago. Her sons, reared in the true style of 
Old Virginia families, in a genial and exhilirating climate, 
and used from youth to the sports of the chase, the 
exciting lists of the tournament and other manly and out- 
door amusements peculiar to Virginia and other of the 
Southern States, were admirably fitted by birth and educa- 
tion for the duties of the soldier, and a finer looking and 
nobler set of men than they who hailed from the county of 
Rappahannock were not to be seen in the armies of the 
South. They are tall, finely formed and sturdy ; generous 
in their impulses, of strong and native afiinities and attach- 
ments, and great pride of home and of State. 

Their devotion, endurance and courage, w^ere of the best 
and surpassed by none, and in beautiful harmony with the- 


promptness and rapidity with which they rallied to the call 
of the State. Many a hard fought field attests their pres- 
ence and their valor and on which they now rest in the 
sleep of death. Wherever work was to be done there these 
men were to be found, and the county may well recall with 
pride and satisfaction the fact that where all did so well 
none did better than the hardy sons of the old mountain 
county. The Rappahannock cavalry under the different 
commands of Grimsley, Willis, Swindler, Green, Duncan, 
Fristoe, Browning, Anderson, Eastham, Brownell, as their 
captains or officers in charge — the different companies of 
infantry under Massie, Popham, Walden, Moffet, Eastham, 
Williams, Spicer, Dudley, Hill, Vanderslice, Gibson, Swind- 
ler and others, at different periods, with the members com- 
posing them of equal courage and patriotism and endur- 
ance, were at their posts and their duties throughout the 
whole war. 

The many armless sleeves and dangling legs of panta- 
loons, speak a tribute that needs no words to attest that 
Eappahannock was duly represented where missiles of death 
were dealing out loss and destruction. These armless and 
legless susvivors are to be seen in every village and locality 
of this county — with parts of their bodies gone to join the 
earth — gone as heralds and forerunners to that bourne as yet 
undiscovered by living man, and to which the remainder of 
their bodies are hastening. These are living and moving 
testimonials, the ever present reminders of days when men 
stood the brunt and faced the shock of the crash of arms 
where none but men would stand and none but men would 
face the foe. These are the proof which require no attesta- 
tion, and yet, the same dauntless spirit that inspired these 
men to meet their loss was equally shared by those who 
escaped. They all were just such men as could win battles 
where battles were to be won. 

The long-roll of the dead and missing who gave their 
lives to the cause and sealed their devotion with their 
blood, has many a noble name among its lists whose memo- 


ries will es^er be dear to the State and never be forgotten 
by the people of Rappahannock, and who, though they 
monrn the loss of sons, kindred and friends, are yet thank- 
ful in their sad bereavement that they died the deaths of 
true soldiers and sleep in honored and unforgotten graves. 
That list comprises names that still survive in living repre- 
sentatives, and as long as patriotism demands respect and 
courage admiration, in many a vacant family in this coun- 
ty will be reared bright altars of fond and grateful remem- 
brance that will outlive the lapse of time, and be crowned 
with the garlands of true affection and enduring love. In 
a war eminently distinguished for the individual prowess, 
gallantry and enterprise of its soldiers, it is matter of no 
little satisfaction to know that the boys from Rappahannock 
gave as good a record of their career as any others. In 
fact, there is but little, if any distinction, to be seen in the 
conduct of the soldiers from Virginia, and where all did so 
nobly and well, it is with none other aim to speak of any 
particular part of them save in that spirit so natural, which 
like charity begins at home, and as the people of Rappa- 
hannock are dear to me, because I am one of them and 
among them I was born and among them lived ; still their 
praise is the praise of the State, and the praise of Virginia 
is that of all the South 

Many a deed of individual daring and of enterprise is 
even yet told of the boys from this good old county, which 
for cool and courageous execution will bear no unequal 
comparison with those of the Swamp Foxes, with the chival- 
rous Marion at their head in the days of '76. The old 
State was well represented in the late war, even as she has 
always been in all the great and trying events in the history 
of our country, save only with single and marring exception, 
that of the undutiful separation from her of that former 
portion, which now rejoices in the name of West Virginia, 
as a separate State in the glorious constellation of States. 

Strange it is that the same spirit that led to so rash and 
selfish an end, did not likewise suggest the propriety of 


choosing a new name to the total exchision of the old ; 
that in her divorcement the name of Virginia should still be 
preserved in the assumption of new and divorcement of old 
ties. The one redeeming trait in this sundering of the 
remnant of the once broad and extensive domains of the 
Old Dominion, was perhaps the remembrance of the name 
which had become so doubly dear, that even in the hour of 
forcible and self-executed separation, the name, the proud 
and glorious name of Yiiginia was retained, whereby the 
last and only unnatural one of her many oifspring should 
be known and called. Virginia has undergone many pro- 
cesses of decrease, whereby she gave to the good of the 
country thousands of square miles of splendid territory, 
and yet it was reserved for the last cutting away of her 
acres to be the unkindest cut of all. It was literally a 
forced confiscation without even the usual right of redemp- 
tion — a right accorded by natural and general law, yet in 
this one case denied — as usurped acquisitions, like necessity 
know nor recognize any law. It is, however, consoling to 
know that with this last we have parted with all the land 
that the most exacting caprice of government could exact 
from us ; and that what is left, after all have been so boun- 
tifully helped, is scarcely worth the dividing; and yet, 
amid all her gifts and the stolen part of her fertile soil, the 
still proud and generous dispenser of it all — the mother of 
States and Statesmen — that which remains to her, amid the 
parting of so much, still bears the old and honored name, 
and with the name may well be proudly glad to witness 
the success and prosperity of her numerous and distin- 
guished progeny ; a success which though now denied to 
her, she yet views in them as a fond and loving parent and 
jealous mother. And, yet, we must not forget that great 
oonsideration and honor are due those brave and true men, 
those loyal sons of the mother State and worthy sons of the 
Old Dominion, who left their homes, no longer willing 
witnesses of, nor partakers in the deed that had been done, 
and stood squarely and fairly in the ranks of their kindred. 


rejecting tlie overtures of the Pierpont government, and cut 
off from all the conveniences of home and its comforts, re- 
mained throughout the toil and heat of the day, even unto 
the end of it. They, like the noble spirits from Maryland, 
were subjected to the additional discomforts of not being 
able to pay even periodical visits to their own firesides, and 
frequently prevented, for long periods, of sending words of 
greeting to or receiving intelligence from those of their 

And yet under these manifest discomforts, not shared in 
by the men from other Southern States, save at short times, 
these refugees were soldiers of sound and staunch principles 
and of indomitable spirit and heroism. And here we recall 
an oft remarked and well remembered fact, which owes its 
strano'cness to what mio-ht well be termed an aro^ument 
against the old accepted truism, that the best soldiers are 
they who have been trained to hard, out-door work, and 
that the sons of farmers and others used to daily toil under 
the heat and cold of the year, are better suited for the 
rigors of camp than they who were reared in the stores, 
counting-rooms and other in-door pursuits. That our 
farmers, mechanics and laborers made good, in fact, the 
best of soldiers, we know, and gladly testify to their 
efticiency in all that goes to make up the grand total of a 
patriot and warrior, and yet, that the other class, less labor- 
iously experienced, made any the less as good, we cannot 
admit, much as it is opposed to reasonable supposition ; for 
a little reflection upon the part of those whose attention 
may not have been drawn to the matter, and a hurried 
retrospect of their camp observations, will verify the truth 
of the proposition that some of the most delicately raised 
youths, the extent of whose out-door life had been contined 
to an occasional ramble in quest of game in the neighbor- 
ing fields, and whose smooth white hands knew no rougher 
experience than the driving of the quill or turning of the 
ledger, met the privations, faced the hardships and endured 
the life of the soldier with quite as much S23irit and 
stamina as any other class of persons. 


The difference in life did not make such a contrast on 
the field as might naturally be looked for ; and a few- 
months of the rough and wear of camp life, and a brush or 
two with the enemy, did greater work of transformation in 
delicate, untried form of the town youth, than could be the 
looked for — and at the expiration of his novitiate, his 
nerves, even though less stoutly braced than his country 
comrade, w^ere toned down to a fighting-pitch that would 
do equal and as severe service. 

This was the rule, and exceptions, though there may have 
been on both sides of the proposition, more due to other 
causes than the previous manner and character of life upon 
the part of those forming such exceptions. Like the old 
maxim upon which the lovers of the turf base their prefer- 
ences^ for certain racers: '"^ Blood will tell, age aint 
noiohere^^ so w^ith the soldier ; spirit and vim is the one 
great thing needful ; the presence of it makes the veteran in 
spite of youth and delicacy, and the want of it cannot be 
supplied, though all the forms, appliances and circum- 
stances of glorious warfare may combine to make the 
recruit come up to the sticking point. Indeed, such was 
the happy effects of the good, pure air of camp — sui rounded 
as it was during the earlier months of the war — with good, 
sound food, that it proved a sure cure, a panacea to many 
who had been almost invalids and entered the war suffering 
from the effects of some debilitating and prostrating com- 
plaints. These rapidly threw off influences -which had 
resisted the care and agencies of nursing and remedies at 
home, and this may be justly regarded as one of the few 
and extremely rare good effects, or, rather influences of the 
war ; and yet the same could be as well secured without 
making a war specially for the benefit of this class of inva- 
lids, by their adopting a life similar to that of w^ar, and yet 
without any of their other diabolical aids and contrivances 
for destroying life rather than renewing and preserving the 
same. So, then, this can scarcely be reckoned a good char- 
acteristic of war, and even the single effect of one relieving 


and redeeming trait of this evil-bearing and horror -produc- 
ing engine for the indulging of the worst propensities and 
passions of men and nations is denied to it, and it must still 
stand, for want of any excuse or palliation to be offered or 
advanced by us, or any other, still the guilty thing it is, 
without the poor defense of one solitary plea or apology, 
and without the aid of one powerless pleader or apologist. 


It is not our intention to follow the course and progress 
of the war, as we are not writing a history. The points at 
which we touch upon it are those suggested without refer- 
ence to method or system, selected here and there and 
omitting many altogether. To do otherwise would require 
time and the expenditure of care which belongs exclusively 
to the historian, and we particularly wish to keep clear 
from its special province. Too many of these, unfortu- 
nately for the good of the country, have already been cast 
industriously upon the public. Prejudiced and prejudged 
for the most part by the peculiar and special stand points 
from which written, and colored by much that was not the 
truth of events, rather than being an addition to the annals 
of the country, they only represent party feelings and parti- 
zan dogmas. But this has been, is now and must be in all 
probability. By it we are misled in our judgment and 
estimate of the past with which we have no other means of 
knowledge, save what is contained in the books handed 
down, and the still less accurate sketches of tradition. 
The duty, therefore, of a historian is especially a distinct 
and sacred one, stript of all that license with which caprice 
and irresponsibility is so apt to invest it ; and though there 
may be honest and honorable intentions on the part of him 
who undertakes this office, and even though he believes he 
is impartially correct, yet, with all the care and nicety of 
detail of an eye witness, so far as the opinions, beliefs and 
deductions formed, they are invariably those of the writer, 


and not the truth in its pure, absohite form. Exceptionally 
correct, indeed, will be the result if there be no further 
innovation beyond that of opinion — usually the extension 
leads to the distortion of facts themselves ; and, of course 
then, as history, it is a misnomer. All books, more or less, 
are parts of history, and as such bequeathed as legacies to 
posterity often for purposes of concealment, only dealino- 
in what the author designedly details for some purpose or 
profession which he intends thereby to aid and advance ; 
hence what should be one of the most inviolate of all tlie 
departments of literature, instead of becoming means for 
the recital of truth, is basely prostituted to seltishly corrupt 
and base uses — merely instruments of misinformation. 

How many facts thus distorted, and good and worthy 
characters thus ruined, are the work of those who pretend 
to the duties and office of historians. The clear deduc- 
tion from this is that as history is but a reproduction and 
development of events and periods, its only true end is to 
give plain, absolute truths, unvarnished and unadorned by 
passion or caprice. With all the safeguards with which an 
honorable person will surround it, it is a blessing and a great 
one, and without them nothing but an evil in disguise. 

Terribly bad as are the details of much conducted with 
the late war, yet so far as the South is connected, with 
whose part in it we are more thoroughly intimate, they 
have been so partially metamorphosed and intentionally 
prejudged, that even before the smoke of conflict had clev- 
erly been cleared away, revealing the clear, unclouded skies 
of a returning peace, there were those who could not aw^ait 
the return of calmer quiet and the departure of their own 
passions, but dipping their pens in the yet undiied blood of 
the slain, undertook, of all men the least fit, to be the 
writers and historians of that memorable event, whilst their 
own feelings were strangers to the truths and aliens to the 
facts ^bout which they were about to write, and of which 
they were to be the informers of the whole world. So far 
has this unjust spirit been indulged, that it is a question of 


no small irnjjortaiice, whether the direct effects of these 
nnhistorical writings have not lead to the perpetration, 
since the war, of that estrangement of feeling which before 
it, led to tlie dire calamity of civil war itself! Have they 
not kept alive and continually agitated what might else 
have died an easy and natural death — and have not the 
partizan speeches, editorial appeals and imprudent efforts of 
writers, served but to delay the happy return of good feel- 
ing and understanding between the different sections of our 
country ? There is no doubt both sides indulged in this 
species of history to an extent that was not to be success- 
fully combatted and restrained by the many conservative 
and patriotic men in the Korth and South, and whose 
efforts to stem this torrent were futile and of no avail. 

As lam clear of having added one single line, or of making 
a single speech before the war, so now I hope to steer clear, 
in my little book, of aiding in keeping alive the memo- 
ries and animosities begotten of that unhappy struggle. 

On the otlier hand it is my humble wish, as it sliall be 
my aim, by all means in my power to hurry the coming of 
a perfect and complete restoration of the Union, even as it 
was in the glorious days when this nation was the best in the 
world — such a consummation may well be hastened by all 
who love and honor their country, and, humble though 1 am 
in my own estimate, yet the desire for such a triumphant 
end is not wanting in me, however, delicient my ability, 
and when all act and think on this principle, the thing is 
already accomplished. Each one, under the great organic 
system recognizing the equality of all before the law, has 
his power of inffuence either for good or for evil, and to 
exert the one to its greatest extent and restrain the other as 
much as possible, is the great and exalted duty of an Ameri- 
can citizen. Especially ought he so to do when he clothes 
his thoughts in the perpetuating and living livery of t]j 
press ; for books live and do their work wherever reir of 
are found and thought cultivated ; and no book, but w -^d 
like its autlior, has its iiifluence for good or ill. 


It is a silent, but ever working power, outliving the day 
and age of its birth, and carrying down to yet unborn 
readers the same resistless, the same undying power. This 
exceeds the power of spoken words, for theirs oftimes is 
confined to the hour and manner of their utterance, and 
when once removed or forgotten, loose that nervous life 
wliich accompanied their diction, whilst books are forever 
around and about us, forever changing hands and readers, 
and all the while makinsf new whilst seldom losins: old 


I joined the army a few weeks after the withdravval of 
the forces under command of Gen. J. E. Johnson, from 
Harper's Ferry, at which point they had been stationed from 
the ISth day of April, the day upon which the Urst forces 
left their homes to engage in what they then thought would 
prove, at the furthest, nothing worse than a forced absence 
from the comforts of home f.or a few months, but wliich, like 
all other human calculations of the unknown future, proved 
to be one of the longest and most gigantic wars known to 
history. What was thought to be a skirmish or two, crowned 
with a glorious achievement of victorious terms, proved to 
be one that for all good and human purposes, had better 
never have been precipitated. The beginning was all sun 
shine, hope and enthusiasm — the end, when it came, after 
its lonff comino^ — was to be in a sad and mournful contrast 

tj CD 

to the bright picture of its beginning. 

Harper's I^ erry had long been one of the most important 
of our inland towns, both because of its railroad and water 
facilities, its grand and majestic sceneiy as well as for 
'its beino: the location of the larcrest armories for small 

c? Cj 

o,.rms"in the U. S., and with the exception of one other simi- 
facts^. manufactory at SpringHeld, in Mass., the only one of tlie 
tlie^id in the country. These two supplied om- whole equip- 
Junent of arms previous to the war, so far as we knov^^ The 


armory was a large and extensive affair, comprising many 
buildings substantially erected along the southern bank of 
the Potomac and within a few rods of it; the intervening 
space being the site of the track of the B. & O. li. H. Co. 
The structure which supports this track, is a solid wall, 
declining to the water's edge, built of the beautiful blue 
limestone of that part of the State. 

The wall is probably forty feet high and protects the armory 
buildings from the overflowings of the I'iver, and which, 
without it, could hardly stand the tremendous power of 
one high freshet which the Potomac is accustomed to send 
through its banks during the opening weather of Spring. 
The history of the building of this wall is this : About the 
year 1832, the B. & O. R. R. Co., obtained permission from 
the then Secretary of War of the U. S., to place its track 
alono^the southern bank of the Potomac, 2;ivino^ the rio-ht of 
way — in other words, in consideration for the building of this 
huge wall by this company, the U. S., by this agreement 
securing their own armory buildings from rises of the river. 
The site of the track for a distance of nearly a mile from 
the Ferry, westward, is supported b}" this wall and by trus- 
sel work ; the road being at points but a few feet above and 
from the edge of the water, with high cliffs on the other 
side of the track. 

The erection of this wall affording a secure road-bed to 
the railroad, and protecting the armory of the U. S., was 
made at great expense, but is such a work as will need no 
repairs and will stand the wear and tear of years. All these 
costly works of thegovernment and their valuable machinery 
were destroyed on the evacution of the place in the early 
Summer of 1861, since when, they have been virtualli- 
abandoned by the U. S., so far as the resumption of v^chef 
is concerned, and the old site, together with the of tlj, 
thereon, were sold some few years since to a privateet, of 
pany with tlie purpose to nuike use of the splendid ^\*\^-»d 
power for milling and other manufacturing purposes. 


Though the sale was made, yet no use has been made of 
the grounds, the only attempt made being one of a specula- 
tive turn, by wliich this company undertook to make tlie 
B. &. O. R. R. Co., pay a large bonus to them for the nse of 
the ground upon which their track lies for nearly a mile and 
in front of the old armory. This demand for money, the 
amount of which, we believe, approached to nearly a quarter 
million of dollars, was based upon the invalidity of the con- 
tract made in 1832, heretofore referred to between the 
B. &. O. R. R. Co. and the then Secretary of War of the 
II. S., averring the said Secretary transcended his powers in 
entering into any such agreement, and that they, the pur- 
chasers from the U. S., to whom the rights and powers in the 
armory had descended by purchase, by the pov,^er of the 
right of substitution, would proceed to collect the amount of 
money claimed through the Courts if not paid. 

Of course, the great and powerful corporation refused 
compliance with such a proposition to a right of way they 
had quietly enjoyed for more than a quarter of a century, 
and out of this refusal, grew a long and tedious law suit, 
which reached a final termination only a few months since, 
in the Court of Appeals of West Virginia, in the entire favor 
of the railroad, who, by this decision have forever quieted 
their easement and enjoyment of this disputed narrow track 
of rocks and sand, of utter uselessness to any one save for the 
purpose it is now used. We have referred to this as a mat- 
ter of interest, showing the powers of the Secretary of War 
in making contracts, and also as being a part of the history 
of the old armurv, its destruction and abandonment. 

Now, that this matter has been put at rest, and no further 

issue as to the rights of parties to this really splendid water 

tcOwer can arise, there is no reason why so good a property 

-its uld not at once be put to some useful purpose — that, for 

Owrtnsnce, of turning tlie swords and muskets, there manu- 

factst;<.red, into pruning-hooks and plough shears. It is to be 

the^'icld the buzz and hum of lively mac^hinery may soon be 

Jurjard here, as in the old days of high and busy life in the 

famous old town of Harper's Ferry. We were so forcibly 
impressed whilst passing through this old Potomac tow^n, a 
few weeks since, made memorable by the insane attempt of 
Jolm Brown, who chose it as the basis of his operations in 
his chimerical attempt in 1859, and again as the first rally- 
ing' point for Virginia and Sonthern soldiers in 1861, at 
the great change that has taken place in it. Perhaps no 
]^lace in the State, save the hospitable old Virginia town of 
Fredericksburg, presents so signal ear-marks of the war as 
Harper's Ferry. Its grand monntain scenery, winch onr 
good Jefferson pi-onoiinced to be worth a trip across the 
Atlantic to see, is all that is left unmarked by the decay of 
ruin; all else, the houses, the walls, the streets would make 
no bad counterpart of Goldsmith's Deserted Village. 
And all this is due to the war, for before its blighting hand 
was laid upon it, it was a prosperous and thriving place, ^o 
improvement is to be seen to relieve the dull monotony 
of its general dilapidation, only blackened charred walls 
and timbers, buildings toppling as if fall was inevitable in 
spite of the props underneath to steady them. Strange to 
say, the reaction that has taken place in other aiid larger 
towns in tlie State, is not yet visible here, and you feel as 
though the war had not yet ceased, and this war-worn place 
had just been deserted by one of the two armies in dread 
anticipation of the coming of the other. The Maryland 
Heights just across the river, once the stronghold of the 
Union forces, and on whose southern crest there then bristled 
with the grim-visaged siege pieces, now presents a quiet 
pastoral scene, in strong relief to the town on the opposite 
side of the river. Here, high up among the tall peaks of 
the Blue Ridge, mav be seen a herd of many colored goats, 
quietly feeding on tlie scanty herbage, and yet so wild, there 
they remain unfed and uncared for by man, approached by 
none, and as safe, though in full sight, as if among the 
Alpine, fastnesses of their native peaks; there they have 
leinained, till from a single pair, let loose during the war, 
the J now number more than a hundred, presenting a pleas- 


Ing and picturesque sight, attractive, especially to passengers 
on the many passing trains far down below. 

Here, too, among the other remarkable natni-al curiosities 
to w^hich all comers, as in duty bound, wend their steps, is 
"Washington's Rock," high up on these heiglits, and so 
named from a resemblance, so called, real or fanciful, said 
to be seen in the rough figure of a man whicli stands out in 
bold relief on the granite height, to the features of the 
Father of his Country. 

Many claim the likeness is there, rougli hewn in the liaid 
mountain granite, a freak of the great sculptor nature, who 
determined that the name and fame of so good, so great, 
and noble a Virginian should be carved in material that 
should stand coeval with time itself, and thus s^ave us on 
our own soil, and on the mountains of his country, this 
counterpart of him wdiom all delight to reverence hj the 
endearing name of Fatlier. 

The 52nd Virginia, of which I was a member, was at the 
period of my joining, commanded by that eminently good 
man and distinguished law^^er, Col. Jolni B. Baldwin, of 
Staunton, Va., whose deservedly high reputation as a States- 
man and in his profession was but enhanced and made 
greater by his record in the field. A man of marked abili- 
ties and eminent genius, his rank was witli those who stood 
in the front of the bar in Virginia at a time when her bar 
had many giants in mind, and whose lips were as pure as 
their records brilliant. 

He died as he had lived, an honor to his State and to his 
country. My first military experience was with that little 
band who left the mountains of their native homes far be- 
hind them to the east, and went a soldiering among the wilds 
of strano^e and to us unknown and biof^er mountains than our 
own dear blue topped ones of Eastern Virginia. Far off 
among the peaks and crags of the Alleghanies, twin brother 
of the Blue Ridge, we pitched our unpretending tents, and 
there, amid the awful grandeaur of those silent fastnesses, we 
first tasted of the bitter sweets of a soldier's life. No one 


need go to Italy to enjoy the master pieces of that great ar- 
tist of all, Nature, so long as he can see more than either 
Italv or Switzerland, can boast of amons; the mountains of 
the Alleo^hanies ! True, I have not had the advantai>:e of 
an European tour, and am merely a partial judge, but 
if the evidence of those who have seen both and tlie recoi'ds 
of those Americans Avho have made the tour, go for testi- 
mony, there are even other of American sceneries, save 
those of the mountains of Virgini^a, which may well contend 
for the palm with the far famed lands of Europe. " See 
N^aplesand then die," had passed into an aphorism, if we mis- 
take not, before the maker of it knew much about America, 
and if he did, w^e may excuse his seltislmess on the i^round of 
natural love and affection. Sure it is, there is quite enough 
to satisfy even the exquisite taste of a true lover of nature 
in the sublime pictures of this western half of the globe, 
even if we of that part of it known as the United States — 
who not vainl}^ boast the best government under the sun — 
cannot agree among ourselves as to which part of it has the 
finest natural scenery. 

Whilst the land of the Hudson lays claim to precedence, 
a Catskill pleads no less her own ; and so, from every part of 
our fair domains comes tlie same note of pleas entered for the 
same prize ; and surely among so many distinguished rivals 
for the honor of ha vino; the finest and o^randest shifts of 
nature and of her God, there is enough in our own fair and 
beautiful land to satisfy the seeker after these grandly 
sublime feasts of the eye, to save him the unpatriotic under- 
taking of looking them np under foreign skies. Then, too, 
you know my good reader, it has been promised by some 
wise looker-on and observer among the peculiai'ities of peo- 
ples and nations, and one too that observed for a purpose, 
that all Americans who so greatly desire a trip to Europe, 
that if they live good lives here, they will go to Paris when 
they die, or as this same quaint observer puts it : "All good 
Americans go to Paris when they die." But enough of this. 
Our camp duties were not severe, nor our fighting of much 


of a number one kind, whilst out in the land of bii? moun- 
tains and l)ig cattle, thougli we did have several Dumber one 
scares of the first water; all of which we learned soon after- 
wards to regard as very little indeed, and not a fair patcliing 
to wliat we soon experienced wliilst playing foot cavalry in 
the Vallev, under the o^reat Jackson. Still it was a s^ood drill- 
ing, a novitiate through which recruits pass before they can 
lay claim to the title of old soldiers. Nothino; of any interest 
occurred till we had to leave those western wilds at the 
instance of our quondam enemy (reneral Milroy, who took 
it into his head that we Johnnie Rebs had about enouo-h of 
the fine sights and sceneries of that romantically^ disputed 
region, and fearing if we tarried longer there, there wouldn't 
be plenty enough upon which the admiring gaze of his own 
men might feast, (we have learned since he had some Swiss 
and other European fellows with him who liad come all the 
way over to see sights, and couldn't get close enough to see 
good whilst we were tliere,) gave us some premonitory 
admonitions that the time had come when the places that 
then knew us, must know us no longer. Understanding the 
wishes of his Generalship, who possibly may have had some 
oil interest there to look after, to mean we must "git up and 
git," we accordingly obeyed instructions, as all good soldiers 
should do, (though I don't know whether we would have 
done so under other circumstances, just to please General 
Milroy,) we accordingly did get out, and that was the last 
of our Alleghany experience as a soldier, bad luck to the 

But we made the acquaintance of one, wlien we reached 
West View, a few miles west of Staunton, General Milroy 
still admonishing us to "git up and git," and had kept at 
our heels all tlie way — one of whom report had said many 
cheerinu^thino^s and whose strono^ aid and heavy hand we knew 
could help us to a day of rest from the foe who had so unre- 
lentingly followed us. That man was the great, the immor- 
tal Jackson. He had come to call a halt for us, and right well 
did he and his men do it. Neyer shall I forget the change a 


few hours of his presence among our little band of worn out 
and fatio^ued soldiers from the Alleo^hanies, wrouo^ht amono: 
us. We felt the inspiration of safety and deliverance from 
his presence, and instead of a retreating army at the com- 
mand of a Mib'oy, we faced about in a few hours, to go over 
the back- track, but this time as the pursuers, not as the pur- 
sued. The whole change seemed to be the work of magic ; 
and how our late pursuers could have known the difference 
m our situation, I cannot tell, but certain it was, they at 
once began to change their own movement, and off Jackson 
started in the pursuit of Milroy, with his little army — part 
of which he had brought with him. The march was a terri- 
bl}^ severe one, as much as 37 miles being passed over in a 
dav, and that too, over a rouo-h road leadins: over raoun- 
tains and across the narrow valleys lying between them. 

The result of this move was the battle of McDowell, 
fouglit on the evening of the 9th of May, 1S62, and which 
lasted far into the nio-ht. The battle was fouo^ht on a small 
mountain and in among the many spurs of that hilly 
country, plentifully watered by rivulets and streams, afford- 
ing fine grass and pasturage for the cattle so numerous in 
that countiy. Our men slept that night wdiere they fought, 
ii>:norant the enemv had taken advantao;:e of the earliest 
darkness to send on their trains, which their army followed 
sometime during the night, and so the first gray light of the 
early morn revealed the fact that w^e were entirely the con- 
querers in that mountain fight, and Milroy was hurrying on 
to get to a place of safety in reaching distance of the B. & 
O. R. R., whei"e re-inforcements could readily be sent to his 
aid. A running fire was kept up on the part of our cavalry, 
who followed them, till the army reached Franklin. Here 
the pursuit w^as abandoned, and Jackson's object had been 
satisfactorily accomplished, that of preventing the junction 
of the force we routed at McDowell, with Banks who was 
on his way up the Valley. After resting all day Sunday we 
began the return march towards Staunton, leaving that place 
some miles to our right and gained the Valley Pike by way of 


tlie Alum Spriugs. At Xewmarket we crossed over to tlie 
Page Valley, and then began the run after Mr. Banks, wliich 
ended in running hini completely out of the State with 
almost the total loss of his wao-ons and army stores, all of 
which fell into our hands, and constituted a rich and hand- 
some prize, and oiie which was much needed by our army. 
These immense stores with 300 wa^rons were safelv taken to 
Staunton, and from the complete capture made, Gen. Banks 
was quaintly denominated commissary to General Jackson, 
by which title he was celebrated in patriotic verse by some 
rhyme-making Confederate, which was heartily'sungby the 
bo}S in gray, all joining in a rousing chorus to celebi'ate the 
kindness of Mr. Banks in handino^ over to them so manv 
nice things to whose use they were beginning to be 

And, here, we remark the quick versatility and fitness by 
which some one in the ranks was alwavs sure to turn every 
unusual incident and occurrence to good account for the 
amusement and passing enjoyment of his comrades. No 
matter how tired, fatigued and hungry, the very appearance 
of anything out of which a funny remark, or running jest 
could be made, tliere was always some one equal to the 
occasion, and the hearty, joyous laugh, fallowed by the 
repeated joke as it passed down along the line for the bene- 
iit of all. awoke a pleasing relief from the contemplation of 
more serious matters. In this irresistible spirit of fun, that 
particularly distinguished the Southern soldier, some most 
excellent jokes vrere muanufactured, lit and apt for the 
times and scenes of their perpetration, but which lose much 
of their charm in the transfer to times of peace. The sol- 
dier would have his moments of relaxation and fun, and 
this at the expense of all without raspect to persons,' caste 
or position, and unfortunately lixed the luckless wight or 
elegantly adorned man at home when his presence among 
the troops gave the signal for the fun to begin. 

And begin it did just as soon as some one of these joke 
manufacturers could take in the requirements and necessities 


of the occasion, and fix upon the most viilnei'able point of 
attack about his victim. In anticipation of wliat was surely 
to come, all prepared themselves as the singing master did his 
whistling class, by the order to pucker lips, for a good gene- 
ral launch, sriven with all the utter disrei^ard to rule and 
system which distinguished their no less hearty and equally 
as boisterous shouts in the hours of victory. ■ The Southern 
soldier did nothing by halves nor without vim and spirit ; 
and the volumes of mirth and frolic that rolled up from the 
long line of march was more than enough to keep it still 
moving as its boisterous sounds were taken up in redoubled 
repetition ; and the funny spectacle presented of thousands 
of men laughing at one end of the line, the joke of which 
began at the other a mile or more off, and the merits of 
which tb.ey were completely ignorant of, and would not know 
till it reached them down the line, handed from one to 
another by a slow yet certain communication. All laughed 
because they knew something good had happened, and as 
lau<diter was one of the few articles that was not contra- 
band and consecpiently by no means scai'ce, they felt it was 
good for them to engage in it, in sympathy for those who were 
enjoying the cream of the joke and which would reach 
them by and hy. Plow many a heavy and weary hour was 
relieved of much of its depression by this irresistible ten- 
dency to joke and laugh ! It was the safety valve through 
which he gave out the overplus of his bad feelings whilst 
through it he drew in fresh supplies of exhilerating buoy- 
ancy to cheer and enliven. Oftimes the least thing would 
be enough to give the start, and when once fairly begun 
the very welkin would ring and ring again, provided there 
was anv such thino^ about that could be runo;. A rabbit 
frecpiently would suffice, and so the poor terrified animal 
vainly tried to extricate itself from the labyrinth of 
human bodies that opp(jsed its every jump and hemmed it 
in on every side, the tremendous cheer and awful din of 
voices striving to out do each other in the amount of noise, 
completely unnerved the startled and paralyzed animal, so 


that it fell an easy and powerless prey. It was a current 
solution that was often given as the cause of these hearty 
outbreaks to any enquiring novice, that all that hubbub and 
noise was due either to the passing of Jackson along the 
line, or else the men had started a rabbit, one or the other, 
but just which one could not be told till fui'ther report. 
Either was sufficient and it was a matter of history that 
Stonewall never passed the line on the march, or made his 
appeai-ance in camp, that he was not greeted by a hearty, 
spontaneous greeting of the men. The man elaborately 
decked out in all the spotless cleanliness of store clothes, 
was sure to be invited to come out of that hat. " I know 
you are there for I see your toes working; " or, " niister, I 
say you needn't tell me you 'aint inside that biled shirt, for 
I see your arms hanging out; " or, " come out of them 'ere 
boots, 1 know you're in them, for anybody can see your ears 
a working out the top;" these and hundreds more, were 
relentlessly perpetrated to the infinite disgust and contempt 
of the victim, but to the complete enjoyment of all the 
boys, who finished the cruel discomfiture of the hapless vic- 
tim with a laugh and chorus that sounded the retreat of the 
object of their fun. And, woe to the imprudent or thought- 
less one who attempted to brave the attack by any assump- 
tion of wounded dignity, or to reply to the overtures of 
advice given with any spirit of bravado or petulance. 

Such reception of the overtures tendered him, was the 
signal for a general marshaling of all the wit and genius 
of the combined fun-living characters among his persecutors, 
and in the joining of forces against him, if he fared no 
worse he was sure to beat a quick and precipitate retreat 
from oft" the scene of his merciless discomfiture and from 
the presence of his relentless tormentors. Under such cir- 
cumstances the best way out of the matter was to bear what 
could not be forborne — to receive the thrusts in a calm and 
satisfied manner even thouo^h stino^ino; under the knowledge 
you are being the butt of all the fun that is being manu- 
factured — and to get out of the unlucky scrape at tlie 


sacrifice of dignity, and with the loss of much of your own 
good opiuion of your beauty. 

One ever enjoyable and exhaustless source of this same 
spirit of persecution ; was the naive and quaint manner in 
which the old foot soldiers persecuted there more fortunate 
companions, the cavalry. 

But this, perhaps, was due to the fact that' more or less of 
envy entered into the composition of that degree of persecu 
tion with which they treated the mounted soldier ; for there 
were but few, who could they have exercised their choice, 
but who would gladly have exchanged into this branch of 
service. The help of a horse was some relief to which the 
infantry were total strangers, and when we remember the 
vast amount of ground over which they passed, it is not to 
be wondered at that the exchange in this respect would have 
been a good one. Be this as it may, the footmen affected a 
poor opinion of the experience of the fighting qualities of the 
cavalry, but we know this was due altogether to the chance 
thus offered them out of which to make a little fun for there 
own and the enjoyment of their comrades. So far as cour- 
age and endurance are concerned thei-e is but little differ- 
ence in the soldiers of the South, and so far as the men of 
Viro-iiiia are concerned there is none, and thev are the same 
good, efficient and courageous soldiers whether in one or the 
other arm of the service. So, that so far, as the right these 
footmen had of making fun out of their mounted comrades, 
there was absolutely none ; but there are none familiar with 
the record of our men in the field who would for a moment 
fall into the ungenerous error that the jokes and inuendoes 
uttered out of a pardonable spirit of fun were attributable 
to any deficiency on the part of the one, or superiority on that 
of the other. This was not the case, and w^e add our own 
testimony to that of all impartial observers, that the cavalry 
of the South as a class were as fearlessly brave and efficient 
a body of men as ever drew^ blade or crossed sabre in charge ; 
and their duties, onerous though they were, found performers 
equal to the exigency. Nevertheless, it was a temptation not 


to be resisted, for these heavy walkers to poke their fun at 
the light-riders, and though unjust as thev were, some of 
their tiirusts were comical, and mirth provoking to a degree 
that could not be endured with any patience were it not that 
they were begotten of no ill-humor, nor indulged in any bad 
or evil spirit. How supremely indignant we remember one 
of these, who mounted on a really superb horse, and much 
better dressed tlian the infantry could keep themselves, was 
asked, as he briskly passed the halted line, if he had ever 
seen a dead Yankee, and with what superb contempt he 
looked on his interrogator as he leaned with his arms 
crossed on the muzzle of his musket, calmlv witnessino: the 
effects of his question, if you hav'nt, just go with us an hour 
and we shall show you one. You need'nt be afraid mister, 
for there has'nt been a sino-le one of our cavalry killed in the 
war, and the onlv one wounded we have heard of did it 
himself while carrying his creetur. All this, expressed in 
that inimitable look of quizzical credulity, was more than 
enough to start the line in the same business of teasing, 
which naturally begot the inseparable laugh and hurrah, as 
the cavalryman, too indignant to relpv or too much demor- 
alized to do so, passed on down the halted line out of the 
hearinoj of one onlv to come into that of a fresh tormentor. 
1 have seen this fun indulged in as the line would be wheel- 
ing into the fight, when, it would be supposed other and 
more appropriate thoughts, born of the hour of danger and of 
death, would occupy the minds of those engaged. The hu- 
man mind is a strancre and mvsterious conservatorv of odds 
and ends of thouf^ht, and actino^ under no law of restraint, 
it produces some wonderful accomplishments as well as 
many strano;e anomalies — "we are fearfullv and wonderfully 

The brio'ade to which mv reo:iment was connected, was 
composed of the 13th Virginia, made up from the counties 
of Culpeper, Hampshire, Lousia, (3range and Frederick ; 
the 31st Virginia, from Upshur, Randolph, Gilmour, Bar- 
bour and Highland ; the 1:9th Virginia, from Kappahannock, 


Prince William, Fauquier, Nelson and Amherst; the 58th 
Virginia from Bedford. Franklin, Patrick, llo(-kl)ridg;e and 
Amherst ; and the 52dfrom Au<j:nsta, Rockbridge and Bath, 
The brigade was severalh^ commanded by Gens. Johnston, 
Flzev, Early, Smith, Pegram and Hoffman. The 31st by Col. 
Jno.lloffman; the 13th\y Cols. Hill, Walker and Terrill ; 
the 49th by Cols. Smith and J. C. Gibson ; the 5Sth by Cols. 
Bode and Kasey, and the 52d by Cols. Baldwin, Harman, 
Skinner, John Watkins and John D. Lillv. These were all 
brave and efficient officers, the wounds they received being 
the best proof of their courage. Col. Hoffman, who is 
now a Circuit Judge in AVest Virginia, lost a foot, Cols. 
Terrill and Watkins were killed. Col. Bode was mortally 
wounded at Winchester, Va.,' whilst Col. J. C. Gibson, 
now a prominent lawyer in the town of Culpeper, bears 
on his person the marks and scars of wounds, some of 
them of the most serious character^ to a number almost 
incredible to believe that one person could receive so many 
and so bad wounds, and still be as active and working a man 
as the Colonel is. I believe he was wounded not less than ten 
times, and the amount of service necessary to receive so 
many is something wonderful when we know some good 
soldiers escaped unhurt; at all events the Colonel got his full 
share, and in so doino^, did as much hard lio^htino; as cheer- 
fully as any other who ever drew a sword in defense of a 
principle, or met a foe in defense of country. There seemed 
to be a strano^e fatuitv connected with the lives of some of 
our men. Some, there were, who fought through the whole 
war and were in every battle where their regiment was 
engaged, and yet, fortunate in escaping all injury, whilst 
others, it seemed, were sure to be struck in every engage- 
ment, and even in any little skirmish they happened in. 
The laws of chance did not hold good as to the probabili- 
ties of being killed or wounded, so far as individuals were 
concerned ; though, as to the gross amount in the aggregate, 
it may have. We know an instance — as good a soldier as 
was to be found in the ranks of the South — who was almost 


sure to be struck by a ball, and generally in the earlier part 
of the battle in every fight he went in, and yet, strange to 
say, none of them were serious, althougli his body was pretty 
well peppered over l>y bullet marks; and he now lives to 
this dav to tell over tlie stories of his score or' more of 
wounds. His brother, in the same comoany, and equallv 
as good a soldier, went safely through the same battles and 
with but a single exception, received but one wound during 
the entire war. 

w^ome soldiers seemed to bear charmed lives, whilst others 
were bright, particular objects of special favoritism when 
the wounds came to be served out. We have all heaidof the 
soldier who safely esconced, by the liigh works, behind 
which he was tighting, and who being asked why he kept 
waiving liis left arm over the works where the balls were fly- 
ing tiiick, vv;;en he could keep it down in perfect security; 
replied w^ith singular quaintness, that he " was feeling for 
a furloucj::li." 

He wanted to »o home so badlv — and there was so little 
chance of his getting off — that he was actually trying his 
ver}^ best to get strucdv in the arm or hand, knowing the 
probability of such a wound not to be serious, and choosing 
rather to ir^e^t such an one as would insure him a furlough, 
wlnlst healing, than by keeping his arm down, where it 
ought to have been, close up securely all chance of getting 
off to home. Furlough wounds, during the latter part of the 
war, when no furloughs were issued, were looked upon as 
real blessings by the happy possessors, who knew that they 
would secure them leaves of absence wdien nothing else 
would. So, that the wearied Confederate who pined to see 
once more, the dear, familiar faces away in the distant 
jjome, rash though he was, and mad too, for that matter, in 
seeking a wound by the intentional exposure of his arm, 
was vet not so much so, that there was wantini>: method in 
his madness. Ah I no, the old soldier was too keen an 
( bserver, and too apt in his adaptation of means to an end, 
to put himself to any unnecessary trouble or danger, unless 


there was both a method and design, somehow or some- 
where, concealed under what he did. There was bnt little 
failh to be placed in the unselfish design of the old soldier, 
wlien once he had made up his mind to reach some certain end 
as the objective point of his efforts, and liis skillful metliod 
and adroit means bj which he encompassed the result, was 
good proof of the thorougliness of his education in the 
school of plot, as well as of the peculiar ability of the old 
soldier to receive and digest the lessons taught in tlie school 
of design. Tlie army is a capital school in which to learn 
thorough selfishness, and in such as the force of circum- 
stances made our's for the last years of the war, none better 
could well be found in which the tact and knack of providino; 
for one's own dear self, was put to a severe and more thorough 
test. This peculiar way of looking out for No. 1, especially 
in the line of the inner man, became so much a part and 
parcel of the soldier's character as to lead to the coming of a 
new word or term, whereby to define and distingnsh it; and 
there are but few who remember anything about the war, 
but who will readily remember the quaint meaning of 
fl<inhing^ as applied to the peculiar manner by which any- 
thing in the eating line was made to change owners and 
hands in the neighborhood of an encampment. 

Some of the adroit tricks played, the immorality of which 
was ingeniously hidden under this term of flanking, would 
do no little credit to experts and adepts, after a long course 
of learning. The Confederate was a fond and partial lover 
of the feathery tribe, which luxuriate most in the farm- 
yards — or, in plain English, chickens, geese and turkeys. 
He was, at the same time, a scientific and skillful flanker of 
the same, and dextrously adroit in their capture. To this 
spirit of scouting or flanking, was due many a good meal in 
scarce times, whereby the transfer of sonje good old hen, or 
fat pig, was made from their quarters on the farm, to the 
less elegant, but more needy table of the soldier. 

A frequent excuse, when detcted in these forays and 
predatory excursions, was the novel, but ingenuously offered 


one, that the blasted pig bit him ; the old gobler made tight 
at him, and in self-defense he struck an awkward blow that 
ended in the death of the assailant, and being once dead, he 
thought he may as well eat it as to leave it for meaner 
and foivler uses, and that was ivhy lie was making away 
with it to camp ! " Why, mister, yon didn't think /would 
steal, did you ? " r- 

" This here old ram, he butted me, sir, and I don't low any 
one to do tliat ; no sir, not even a ram, and that's why he's 
«iead, you see, and I just thought 'twould be better for us over 
there in camp to have him, than to let the buzzards eat him 
up." All this was said and acted out in a tone and manner 
of such injured innocence, that the unsuspecting victim of 
the cunning trick, was taken in and imposed upon, once at 
least, though success could not well be depended on — so far 
as that victim was concerned — for a second trial. One 
instance in wliich the shrewd actor met with tine success, 
was that of one cf these flankers — and each regiment had 
one of them at least — in one of the mountain districts of 
Virginia, in the Valley, not often visited by the soldiers, and 
whose worthy denizens were as unsophisticated and unsus- 
pecting as to insure success to the ever-watchful, ever-ready 
poacher. The good people liad freely shared with the sol- 
diers, till on one farm, in one way and another, everything 
of the feathery kind had disappeared, save one solitary 
strutting old gobbler, who, could he have talked, might have 
said with truth : '' I'm head cock on this farm-yard, and my 
right there is none to dispute." As Mark Twain might say : 
he was the last one of a once numerous family, llow^ it 
liappcned he escaped, was something wonderful in it self, 
and it was not long before one of these enterprising flankers 
from the infantry, by far the best in the trade, spied him 
and from that moment it was merelv a matter of time as to 
the last end of that turkey. Making the acquaintance of the 
kind old farmer and family, he paid several visits to them 
before he could settle upon his plan ; but, wdienever the 
old gobbler came near him in the peculiar w^ay and style of 


old gobblers, he manifested extreme dread, running away 
from him as if in terror, and in other ways showing: an 
unusual and strange nervousness at sight of a tui'key, tliat 
it attracted the attention as well as excited the mirth of the 
good j.^eople who saw his unsoldierlike conduct. Strange 
inf actuation ; it was for all the world just like an old soldier. 

Providing himself with a good, stout cord, long enough for 
his purpose, and tying a fish-hook at one end, baited with a 
grain of corn, he set for the home of the farmer, no doubt 
mentally enjoying the prospect of one good dinner on tur- 
kev. Arrivino^, lie manifested even o^reater terror at sio:ht 
of his victim than before; the old man kindly officiating to 
allay his fears and to protect him, saying there was no dan- 
ger, and heartily enjoying his companion's alarm. 

Our flanker, a little allayed in fear, threw out a handful of 
corn as thous^h for a peace offerino: to the s'obbler, who, in 
turn, began an attack upon it, and when the one grain had 
slij)ped quietly down his throat — on which was ths hook — 
the alarm of our Confederate seemed all at once to revive, 
and as though in mortal dread, he started off toward camp, 
takins: o^ood care to hold fast to the other end of the strino^. 
The gobbler had followed our flanker before, and hence the 
duped farmer did not take in the truth of the thing, but he 
had not run after him so fast, or cpiite as far as he did on 
that last run. Sufhcient to say, Johnny had a good dinner 
shortly after, and it was on turkey, too. 

The deceived farmer relatino^ the loss of his turkev, snid 
he had run after a soldier and had'nt comeback; but said 
he guessed he had strayed off and been picked up. 

This was flanking, just as nowMiice names are given for 
our high officials : little peculations — of course it aint steal- 
ing — certainly not of that kind nor degree, wdiich just now 
is occupying the time and attention an entire Congress of 
our Representatives in finding out to the amazement and 
chagrin of our whole people and the wonder, if not disgust 
of the rest of the civilized world. 


Stealing a dinner when dinners were hard to be had, and 
much needed by a poor tigliting soldier, and taking the 
money of the people by the half million of dollars, are two 
and quite different things, and if there be guilt in the one, 
what must be the degree of baseness and turpitude in the 

If, as a people, we have in our first one hundred years sur- 
passed the world in the official dishonesty of our officials, 
what may we not expect to do in this line by the next 
centennial ? 

But we leave this subject as one too full of interest to be 
spoken of save in the most sober and rational manner. 


The youth of Virginia, male and female, have always been 
known for their superior horsemanship, and their fondness 
for the cliase and other out-door exercise. Most of the 
riding and travelling are done on horseback, the roads for 
the most part, being of so indifferent character as to dimin- 
ish the use of buggies and other veliicles, and to render them 
unpleasant save on the good roads which are few. 

Our county roads have long been literally a disgrace and 
practically the greatest drawback to immigration, and so far 
as now seen there are no good prospects for their becoming 
what of right they ought to be. But these same bad roads 
have made the Old Dominion a nursery for horseman, and 
with one or two otiier Southern States, the only Amei-i- 
ean territory in the United States where the chase is still 
conducted as in Merry Ens^land, and where it has not deo^en- 
erated into a sickly imitation. Our attention has lately been 
called to several statements in Northern papers to the effect 
that no where in the United States is the chase conducted 
on the ancient principles and rules of the game, at the same 
time speaking of a run that lately took place in New Jer- 
sey, wliere the fox liad been caught and kept for a race, and 
was not seen after he was let loose by dogs or lumter. 


This, no doubt, is the fact in New Jersey and the North gener- 
ally, but so far as Viro^iniais concerned, we know such is not 
the truth here. In Piedmont and the greater part of Eastern 
Yiro'inia, and in some of the Vallev counties, the chase is 
regularly followed by many of its admirers who keep full 
kennels of the best dogs, and where the sport is as free from 
all tlie innovations that iiave so disorraced it elsewhere, as in 
Eno;land itself almost, and so we enter our stout denial to 
the statements of the Northern papers whose mistake in this 
instance is in keeping with the usual partial knowledge of the 
South and of its people and institutions. 

Here the dogs follow the fox and tlie hunters the dogs 
from the jump, over hills, fence and ditch even to the death. 
Its rules and regulations are strictly and generally complied 
with as when first introduced by the men and officers of the 
British Crown ; and to follow the dogs over a rough stretch 
of couiitry for thirty miles or more is not an unusual occur- 

Even in our own county of Happahannock are now kept 
not less than a dozen score of fine fox hounds, which are in- 
dustriously exercised throughout the fall and winter. Here 
may be heard on the hills the inspiring music of the pack 
in full cry, and the deep, open mouth of a dozen couples is 
a sound to which old Rappahannock is no stranger. 

This is a sport which combines the best of exercise with 
the most exhilarating excitement, and to the novice, like 
they of our New Jersey hunters, it is no play, and yet to its 
lovers so enticino; that other amusements are not to be com- 
pared with it. 

Hunters, as a class pursue the chase till age and infirmities 
deprive them of its sport, and at a late meeting in this 
county at wiiich three foxes were killed, there were among 
the hunters three who rejoiced in their three-score-and-ten 
to be able to ride all day after the dogs without dismounting 
at fence and to be at the death before many of their younger 
comrades. One of these was 82 years old, and equal to the 
task as the best. One of our best hunters is the largest man 


in this and perhaps in any county in the State, standing full 
6 feet 8 inches in his stockings, and the number of foxes tliat 
owe their deaths to his success would be something wonder- 
ful indeed to our good friends over in Jerse}^, who let the 
fox, bought for the occasion, get away from the dogs, and that 
too almost without a run on the part of his foxship. But 
that fox, I guess was about the only one on that ground that 
had a good time that day, the fun having been unavoid- 
ably confined, owing to the dogs, perhaps, to the fox to the 
entire exclusion of those who under similar circumstances 
in Rappahannock, generally manage to have a part of it 
themselves. Our Jersey friend must come to Rappahannock 
wdiere we promise them half the fun of the chace, and a fine 
day's sport of it. 

If our Jersey friends will give us a visit in Rappahannock 
we promise to treat them to a run of the dogs which will 
convince them, doubtless though they are, tliatthe people of 
this county know something about the chase, even as con- 
ducted in Merry England, wliich together with a real Old 
Virginia welcome and hospitality may make their trip one 
of great pleasure if not of information. This is the State 
sport of Virginia, and has had no little to do in making her 
sons the stui'd}^ and healthy yeomanry they are. This advan- 
tage told so favorably with them in the cavalry service of 
the w^ar, a branch for which their modes of life fitted them. 
They were not only proficient in this arm of the service, but 
so general was their preference for it, that had all of them 
been permitted to choose, this right would have been exer- 
cised greatly to the injury and prejudice of that more impor- 
tant part, the infantry. This preference, however, could not 
be permitted, so that prohibitory measures were found ne- 
cessary to regulate recruiting. As it was every opportunity 
was taken and chance availed of to change into the cavalry, 
and to do so, even at pecuniary sacrifice, was not only an ac- 
ceptable but vastly preferable transfer, not to be neglected. 

It sometimes happened, that by the usual disasters of wai', 
a good soldier would lose his horse and unable to supply its 


place, by an arbitrary law of the war, was liable to be com- 
pelled to go into the infantry. Horses for the last years of 
the war were scarce, and very high, especially in the border 
counties of the State, where owing to their almost continued 
occupation by one or the other of the two armies, their num- 
ber had decreased to such an extent that a good charger was 
hard to find, and when found only to be had at such an enor- 
mous sum as to put him beyond the purse of the luckless 
cavalryman, whose eleven dollars per month would go but 
little way towards the buying of a thousand dollar horse. 
But to go into the infantry, after tasting of the sweets of gay 
cavalry, was too dire an alternative to be entertained for a 
moment; and, if any fix would put him to the exercise of 
his wit's inffenuitv, this was the one to do it. This was con- 
sidered a downright degradation, and a blow to pride to 
prevent which he would willingly undergo any danger and 
face any calamity. This put him on the rack which was at 
once a test of his patriotism and a trial of his wit. One of 
these dismounted, and consequently miserable cavalrymen, 
finding himself in so sad a predicament, with all its atten- 
dant horrors and fall to his line of promotion, determined 
if possible, to find the way out of his troubles by finding a 
horse — or somebody's else — somewhere or somehow, no 
matter so he got the nag. Like the man in Shakespeare — 

" A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse," 

and he was determined to have him. 

Obtaining the necessary permission to pass outside of the 
picket lines, he started towards the outposts of the enemy, 
whose lines were but a short distance off. Ilis undertaking 
seemed nothing more or less than a rash one, and if under 
stood by his otficer would hardly have been permitted. 

But our seeker after horse-flesh knew what he was doing, 
and right well did he put his plans into a way of getting 
liimself once more mounted. Frovidi!ig himself with a stout 
piece of telegraph wire from the neighboring railroad, when 
he gained the desired place, he streched the wire across the 


roar] securing its ends to convenient trees at tlie ]^roj)er 
distance from the ground to strike a man on horseback I)e- 
tween the chin and saddle. This was done in the woods 
at a point where tlie densest shade offered the additional 
aid of the darkest ijroiind. Waitino; till twiliirht had he- 
gun to surround objects with its fricndl}' gloom, ourdarinf>" 
adventurer left his man-ti-ap behind and approa( lied the 
post of the enem)^ a few hundred 3'ards off very leisurely in 
order to attract their attention, though not in a niann r to 
excite their suspicions, lie wanted them to give him a 
little chase, and sure enough to his delight he saw two of 
them mounting and d<>wn the road they came expectiufj- to 
take one Johnny Ueb in out of the eold. Tiie affair was ex- 
citing, but soon came to an end, for ti e man who was after 
a horse j)assed under and by the wii-e in a few minutes, and 
there awaited the success uf his scheme, for if he failed he 
knew his ca[)ture was cei-tain. On dashed the unsuspecting 
and exciting cavalryman, ilished witii the hope of cMpture, 
when the tirst one struck the invisable wire, and off" he was 
swept as keenly as though his horse had jumped from ui:- 
dej' liim, which in fact it did. 

The other seeing the fate of his companion but unable to 
stop his horse, met the same fate, the two horses meantime 
depi-ived of their riders kept on their swift coni'se to where 
our now rejoicing Confederate awaited them. TJie Yan- 
kees, left to themselves, returned to their post ; the other 
party quickly mounting the one and leading the other horse, 
made his joyful way into camp, the happy possessor of two 
very fair steeds, havii.g displayed his genius and saved his 
bacon at one and the same tiuie. 

To get horses these men would run great risks and ex- 
pose tliemsehes to death and capture within the lijies of 
the enemy, rather than go into the ranks of the infantry. 
The few who were compelled to do so, lost half their eon rai^e 
by the exchange and became indifferent soldiei-s, so tluit 
really no material benetit came to the cause by this ai'bitrary 
indifference to the rights of the men in the Held, and to 
. 3 

say the least, the government should have furnished the 
horses, and not make the men purchase them as they did. 
The Coniederate government owned none of the cavalry 
hoi'ses, save tlie caj^tiired ones. 

Another, but inlinitely more injurious order of the Con- 
federate Congiess was tliat promulgated by arbitrary act at 
the most critical period of the war, when it was doubly 
necessary not to liieak faith with the soldiers; annulling a 
former one bv which substitutes were allowed to take the 
places of those employing them. This and other imprudent 
legislation on the part of this Congress would have been 
withheld had wisdom taken the place of misguided inexpe- 
rience and foolish autocracy ; and even a due and prudent 
desire f'>r the success of the cause would have suggested the 
baneful eftects of much of the then rash legislation. 

But this annulling act of tlie substitute law whereby 
many contracts were made and many exempt men were in 
the iicld in place of their employees, was the crowning deed 
of rashness, and did more direct injury, by way of spreading 
disaffection, than could aft<3rwards be arrested. All contracts 
■were annulled by it, and the substitutes were kept in their 
places and their principals also ordered into service. Thei'e 
were some v,ho wei e exeni j)t,and yet fiom motives of patriot- 
ism and a desire to aid, willingly placed others in their 
places in the army, who were also exempt, and to do so paid 
their substitutes large sums of money. All these contracts 
were swept away and rendered null and void by this perni- 
cious act, thus breaking faith with those whom it should have 
been the aim to conciliate. This was a most foolish and im- 
prudent exhibition of bad legislation, and like all such mea 
surcs, resulted in iniinite harm to a cause already affected 
by the fast and increasing depreciation of our paper money. 
It went a little l)evond what even the people thought was 
necessary from motives of military necessity, and the vio- 
lation of co^itracts made by and under the provisions of the 
same jjower that annulled them, begot a spiiit which for all 
good purposes were best to conciliate rather thanoft'endj and 


caused symptoms of disquiet and unrest that forbode any good 
results from this species of unwise and unnecessary legisla- 
tion. Nor did it add to the luimburs of our armies, but it 
did do for our cause what the ingenuity and numbers of our 
enemy had i)een unable previously to do. One of tliese Con- 
gresses was without doulit the most tlioroughly inefficient 
and incompetent legislative bodies the world hasever known; 
they were men unequal to the demands of the times, and their 
best apology, perhaps, was that they consisted largely of that 
class of anti-war agitators and enthusiasts of precipitate mea- 
sures that afterwards were to become such mildly disposed 
persons as to be found in the bomb- proof walls of legislatures 
and cono^resses and so remarkably scarce in the ranks and 
files of our armies. What they would have done as soldiers 
will never be known, but as law makers in war times they 
were failures. 

But those were extra<n'dinary times and required good 
and sound men. They were failures in their places, but no 
doubt because of s.^me otlier reason than any indifference on 
their part in the cause. 


As before remarked, our first acquaintance with Stone- 
wall Jackson was a few days previous to the battle of Mc- 
Dowell. Gen. Jackson, whose character was alike I'espected 
by friend and fc^e for the purity that adorned and the integ- 
rity that embellished both his private and military life, was 
emphatically one of the great men brought out by the war ; 
and although both armies had a number of skilled and tal- 
ented generals, yet in some respects he was the great genius 
of the war. He was one of the few who on either side was 
equally accounted a great and good man ; and whilst his en- 
emies in the field had a wholesome dread of confrontino: him, 
his presence was a tower of strength and his voice a host in 
itself among his friends. He was tiie tri;e citizen soldier, 
joining to a life of Godly love an uirfaltering devotion to the'- 


cause of his esponsal. Vfutj witli him was tlie great lever 
of action, and wlietlier in the lecture i-oom or as the General 
on the Held, there was n<)de\iati()n from a perfect exampli- 
tication of tlie )>rincij'les of Iiis 1 ehef. 

T\\(i two hat ties of C]-oss Kevs and Port Ive])nhlic, which 
followed the defeat of Banks, weie successes of L''reat mo- 
ment to the Sonth. llei-e Stonewall Jackson o-ave additional 
pi'oof of his tj"anscendant genius. The i»ieat event connec- 
ted wiih these hattles was the mannei' in which he kept 
apai't the two aj'mies of Shields and Freemont, which were 
followinir him. and l»v hinniiio' the hridjre across the Shen • 
andonh, that sepaiated them, pi-evented them fr. m j<ining 
their foices. liavirglaid his clever plan he had the two 
con fr< 11 ting ai iries at his dispo>al. and \\ hipjiing the one on 
one il'd} . in sight and almost in the \erv ))resence of the other, 
who was ])oweiless to give aid, on the next dav he ]>aid his 
ies])ects t(» the other. In this way he had his own way, to 
tlie gi eat moi'titicatio-i of the two Union armies, who found 
themselves whipped hy deTail, a feat Jackson might nothave 
heen ahle to do so cleverly had the two heen })ermitted to 
unite. This was a bj-illiant success, hut only one of tlie 
same kind that followed the career of Jackson. 

There never was a more coni])lete confidence than that 
which existed hetween him and his men. His old brigade, 
which like its first general, took the name Stonewall, and 
was called such even in official reports and papers, loved 
him most devotedly, and wei-e as proud of him and their own 
honoj-ed title as wei-e ever the Old Guard of Napoleon. 

And well they might be proud, for in an army where 
bravery and heroism was so universally recognized, it was 
an honor, and one to be moi'e than proud of, that of being 
so signally and specially honored in a name equally shared 
by themselves and there great leader. 

Theoi^erati'iisof niv i-eiJ:iment were soon after this bi'ought 
to a close in tlie Valley by the call for re enforcements at 
lAiclimond, where McClellan, at the head of an imiru-nse 
and well-appointed army, was trying to reach the Capital 



of the Southern Confederacy, by approach from water and 
land, all the grandeur and appliances which ingenuity c^ouM 
sni>:2:est and wealth command bein^: united in this s-iocantic 
attempt to reach Richmond, then the seat of the Government, 
since its removal from Montgomery. Richmond was the 
gr.^at object till it fell, and "On to Richmond," the never 
varying policy. McClellan, perhaps the be^t of the Union 
generals, and by far the best man holding the position, un- 
dertook this movement in all the pomp and glory of war. 
There seemed to be nothino; wantino* to secure his success, 
which, if then gained, would soon have put an end to the wa?". 
His numbers were doul)le our own, and equipped in a style 
unknown at any time to the Southern armies. Nothing was 
left undone, no denial made to give to this move all possible 
advantage, and it began its march with the unbounded con- 
fidence and enthusiasm of his large army. 

After fighting for several days, Jacks )n, whom we left on 
the road to Richmond, was again to evince the power and 
genius of his mind, and a|:>peared on the scene just when 
lie was least looked For and at a point the last of all, and 
by one of his ever ready and masterly manoeuvres struck the 
enemy a blow that over-powering numbers could not resist, 
and the finely ap])ointed armv of the Potomac utteilv 
baftied and defeated, quit the attack hurriedly and turned 
into a disorderly rout before they were ao^ain safely landed 
on the barges and boats that awaited them in the river — and 
Richmond was once more safe. It was durino; this bloody 
and severe series of fights, continued thi*ougli se\en long 
days under a hot sun and in a miasmatic clin^ate, that the 
humble subject of this pamphlet received the wound that 
made him a (trinple for life. Mv part in the o-lorious record 
of Stonewall's men ended here for a while, and in company 
with that large nuuiber of my comrades similarl}^ disabled, 
betook myself to other quarters there to await the i-esult of 
my wound-. Malvern Hill will always be a place of pai;;- 
ful interest to myself, for there it was the cruel lead foi'ccd 
its way through the bones and flesh of my ankle — C)ne of 


the worst places in wlrich to he wounded, so far as healins^ is 
conoei'ned, and from tliis dav, iii June 1862, there were but 
few ])ours when I did not suiier witli my foot till its am- 
putation. From the bad aecommodations given onr wonnd- 
ed by the antlioi'ities, it was some time before it (3onld be 
known wlietlier amputation, in. my case, would be resorted 
to, but afler 1 found myself tolerably well fixed, the sur- 
geons pronounced their opinion it would not then be nr ces- 
saiT, and no doubt I would l)e able to save my leg from any 
future resort to the knife, and sucli really seemed probable 
from the fact of its s]"-eedv healing, after the first severe 
prosii-ation rtsual in all severe gun-shot wounds, so that in a " 
few montlis, thinkina' mvself al)le to ioin tlie ai-my, I ag-ain 
reported for duty, and once more I was again in the iield, 
though by no means fit foi* the hard marching to which we 
must be subyected. I found the army on the eve of its 
fii'st march into Maryland. I^usy prepai-ations were making 
for that stuperidoris undertaking, and the usual stir and bus- 
tle, wliicli ti e old soldier readilv detects, clearly indicated 
some unusual niovement. Those pi-emonitory symptoms of 
whiich iie judges with unerring instinct, to mean a marcli 
or sometliing else unusal from the routine of the camp, 
are only known l^y the old soldiei", and those who lack his 
education and camp exj)erieTu-.e could not, with the same 
degree of ceitainty. make himself master of tliose same 
prognostic pieparations. It was no vain boast of the old 
neo-ro cook of Jackson's, who said he always knew when a 
battle was to l)e fought; for said he, then Master Tom 
always prayed the longest and oftenest; and from this he 
judged coi'rectly, for tJiough the (7eneral was at all times, 
and under all circumstances strictly punctual and regular 
in his i-eligious as well as other duties, yet, he recognized 
his utter helplessness without the aid and help of an over- 
ruling^ Providence, and llim lie invoked for the aid he 
needed, s{)e<-ially undei' all great and important circum- 
stances. On the 9th of June, the great cavalry duel of the 
war took place at Brandv Station, iu Culpeper county, in 


wliich the great superiority of the Sonthern over the North- 
ern e*ci\alry received the very hest proof — that of iiifeiior 
prevailing over vastly siiperi<>r forces — and in ihe niean- 
Avliile General Lee, with his ai-my v^as safely on his way to 
the Potomac riNcr, ha\ing qnietly escaped the vigilance of 
his foe, who did not know of the move till all danoer of 
discovery was no lon2:er to be feared. 

The polic}' of this move has been generally questioned, 
and theie is no doul)t that the same stiiking success that 
marked the progi'ess of events in our own tenitoi-y, did not 
follow^ in the acl\ances of our ai"my into that of the enemy's 
country ; nor did the same equal success perch on our ban- 
ner in the two gi'eat battles of k^harpsbui-g and Gettysburg, 
as that which crowned our victoi-ies in Vii*2:inia and else- 
where in the South. But in their advances we labored un- 
der sevei'er trials, with less of conveniences than at home. 
The^e moves wei'e not made, save under disadvantageous 
suri'oundings. The foiced mai'ches — distance from our 
centre of oi)erations and other trials — not foro:ettin£j that at 
no period were we equally as well equij)ped in any respect, 
save as to the natural qualities of courage and endurance ; 
and under forced maiches into the enemy's country, this 
diffeience was still more peicej'tibly felt and expei'ieuced. 

Tiiat nothing was gained by these moves is admitted — the 
same resulting in seiious disorganization of our forces — 
though fully able to resist any attack that might have been 
made, but which the enemy was careful not to hazaid. The 
^\itIldrawal of the ai my under all the .hazards of the same 
conspicuously showed the great and superior military talent 
of that noble man and patriot, Geiieial Robert E. Lee. 
Military C)perations were not again actively resumed for 
sometime, the army soon regaining its former efficiency 
in its camp near Oi-ange Oouit house. The captuie of 
Harper's Ferry with 9.UU0 ])iiscners and the other lieavy 
losses ( f the enemy reduced their army to a footing e(]ually 
as bad, if not greatly worse than that of our own, and hence 
they offered uo etibrts to ariest or inconvenience our return. 


After a sfood rest in our camps at Orange Conrthonse, 
the attempt was made to surround General Meade, wliose 
army was confroiitintr us in tlie eomit}' of Ciilpeper. This 
was in Octoher followiiiir. and tliouo-li not I'eaai-ded as siood 
a commander hv our tr* ops as McClellan, vet Meade was 
vastly the superior of Pope or Hooker, and the attempt to 
get around his army and cut it off fVom AVashington, was 
not a success, owing in great measure to the skill of 
Meade. The numbers he commanded were so gi-eat tliat 
he could without any danger stietch it across the narrow 
scope of country in such a manner r,s to be able to concen- 
trate with rapidity and safety, so as to prevent the turning 
of his ilaidv or compelling him to change his front. 
Thorougfare Gap, a narrow passage through wliich the 
army of Lee must pass, in j^art prevented the success of a 
conitealed advance, and withdrawing his forces through 
this before our forces could get on the flank, the result fell 
short of the design contemplated, and with a few skirmishes 
our army was withdrawn to their old camps at the foras on 
the Rapidan and Kappahannock, and around Orange Court- 
house. In this vicinity stands the residence of President 
Madison, one of the earlier chief magistrates of this couii- 
try. This one of the rer.:ainiug prifn-ely mansions of the 
good and happy days of the old :^tate. stands in a grove of 
old and shaggy oaks in a l)eautifully adorned grove, an 
object reminding us that those g3od days have not yet 
returned. Here its illustrious owner lived a life of quiet 
retirement and here he is buried. His idea of ofiice never 
extended, even in thought, to a^thiid term ; but here in his 
home, surrounded by a retiued and hospitalde neighborhood, 
unspotted in office and untarnished in his name and fame, 
he lived the beautiful and hap{)y life of a Virginia gentle- 
man ; a title at that time of no empty honor. 

(Jne of that noble l)and of statesmen and patriots who 
practised the pui-ity of their so(;ial lives in their rectitude 
and honesty in office, he left a name approached by but 
few of the public men of this day of rings and lobbies. 

Wliat a difference between thope times and officials and 
tliose of tlui ])resent day. To i»e Pi-esident then, was at 
once the proof of ])ast services to the country, exalted 
patj-iotism and an earnest (»f future integrity and Iionesty 
in office. Theie were hut few then who in their greed of 
office would barter honor and diirnity to he afterwards 
pe(tulators in office ; none of that depraved partizanship in 
either of tlie two parties, though the rixah'v between tlieni 
was equally as great as now ; l)Ut further than tliis, mea- 
sures were taken not oidy for the advancement of party hut 
also with a view to the good of the country. There were 
no whiskey rings then witli the private secretary of the 
President as its chief man — nor no Piesident seeking for a 
tliird teiin — nor did the election to this (office of chief mag- 
istrate imply that all his relati(His. dowi: to tiie kindi-ed of 
tlie third and fourth degree, were to hold office under him ; 
and when, in one single instance, this was attem})ted to an 
extent which now would he regarded as small indeed com- 
pared to the nu.rnerous relatives of our President now in 
office, the indignation of hoth |)arties was so uncompromis- 
ini^lv outspoken, and thieatening, and the innovation so o-en- 
erally denounced l>y the ) i-ess, that nominations already niMde 
were at once re( ailed and positions rev(jked,and no further 
attempt made l)v this or other President to till the offices 
in his gift or disposal with them of liis own kith and kin, 
save in such nnnd)ers as were proper upon a fair l)asis of 
proportion — nc»t till these latter days of the tearing up of 
the old landmarks and disregai-d of old [)rinciples. That such 
was the fact, all know, and it will he a niattei of no little 
interest to our readers to know that the term now used to 
designate tjjis giving of place and office to relations was 
then a word unused, and the curious will he amused to 
know that with one or two exceptions, and they, in a con- 
nection not germain to the subject, the word nepotism does 
not appear in the liistories of the United States. We have 
not seen it in any published previous to the war, and don't 
believe it was used in them. 


The practice itself was tlien vniknown, anrl it was re- 
served to tin's Hire of progress and of new devices for its 
in'rodnction. and it will i-equire hut little g!iessini>: to name 
the one o;i-eat fosterer and pi-ojector of this most j-ei'iiicious 
manner for the disti-ihntion of our offices. Certain qualili- 
tion^ wei"e then necessary, and tlie accident of hirth. whiL-^t 
it infli(5ted no resti'aint, irave no ]»]"efe]'ment. How would 
our officials ap])ear as jud<i:ed hy tliat higli standajxl, tixed 
upon l>y that sti-ictly ti'ue and honest son ot the Old 
Dominion whilst Pi-esident, when candidates for office, to 
secure his aid, were made to give affirmative answers to the 

"Is he capable; is he temperate ; is he honest?" 

To such then as pi-oved to he cai)ahle, temperate and 
honest, wei-e the doors of (>ffice opened, and against others, 
and special!}' relatives, they were hept closed; and if h}' 
chance admittance was gained by the unworthy, unless their 
conduct in otlice squared with the rules of admittance, 
their expulsion was suie to follow, even against the pro- 
testations of those high in power and position. And to be 
expelled then was a disgrace that followed the unlucky ex- 
official ; what it is now to I'emain in office whilst doing all 
kinds and manner of corruption, is what the times and the 
people have chosen to make it. The word nepotism is of 
no recent coinage, and yet, it is a new one in the history of 
our country. 

Derived from tlie Latin, the lano^uage of the groat Roman 
empire, it may also be regarded as a crime that owes its 
origin and name to the corrupt days that mai-ked the 
decline and fall of the Alistress of tlie World. It was a 
crime then and sojudge d and punished by the ancient 
Romans until corru])ti<jn had infested its whole hody. soci^d 
and politic, and when it ceased to be punished, Rome was 
lost. The less'n slundd he of advantage to us. History 
informs us Rome's downfall was as sudden an<l complete as 
its rise was quick and glorious — nnd it owed itsdawiifall to 
nepotisii), corruption iu office and the efteminacy and indo- 


lence of its people. One of our late worthy Presidents, 
whose death whs hut aiiuonnc.ed in tlio House of Repre-en- 
tatives a few days aiz;(>, was an illusti'ious example of whom 
we have l)ut too few. Amnnij; the othei* characteristics 


developed in his reiiiarkai)le career, was his L)ve of counti'v, 
his official honesty, liis lo\e (»f trutli, and his incorrripti- 
bility in ofKce. llis was tlie rule, and upon which he obsti- 
nately ac-*ed, that pei'sonal integrity and political dishonesty 
wei'e ineconcilahle traits in the same pei'son. 

If corruption occnri'ed in his tej-m, no enemy however 
vindi(-tive, would dare to connect him with il. lie under- 
stood the principles and spii'it of republican institutions. 
His views of and practice in office were the beauty and 
sr.rena'th of his official intciirity, and no i)laces were g-iven 
by him, f'om j>ei'sonal feelings, interest or i'elationbhi[). It 
is said of him and with ti-uth, jndging fi-om his limited 
education, that he was even io-norant of the meaninor of the 
\ word nepotism as used — and knew not of the lurking sarcasm 
contained therein. This iornorance was the result of the 
best kind of education, and ignorant of the word he was 
innocent of the ci-ime. 

Ko deceitfid Gieeks approached him, dona ferentes^ in 
one hand, and an apjjlication for office in the other; or if 
they did, their disappointment was the evidence that their 
treachery was discovered. Thei'e iiat-o heen wiser and more 
learned men than Andi'cw Johnsoij, but as a true, honest, 
and patiiotic lover of his country, ihe proudest in this glo- 
rious land of freedom may well be proud to claim to be 
his peer. 


The battles of Fredericksburg, which occurred in Decem- 
ber, and their results are familiar to mv i"ead(?rs, and I will 
not ti'ouble tlieni by the recital of their details. 

The ai'my went into winter quarters in bkinkei-'s iSTeck 
and along the Rcippaluxunock river, and there remained 
quietly passing away the months in which all operations of 


an active character innst be pnspended till the opening 
weatlier of the next spring. Ilei'e, I pui'pose giving some 
remarks as to the manner of spending the time in winter 
quarters, and some ti aits of the Southern soldier. 

The Southei-n soldiers differed in some lespects from 
those of the ISoi'th. This was due, no doubt, in some mea- 
sure to the large foreign element enlisted in that of the 
North, which was wanriu^ in the Soiitliern armies, almost 
every European nation l)eing re|>resented in the former, and 
but few of any foreign country being in that of the latter, 
save ic^sidents hv naturalization, This lari^e class made a 
much gi'e-iter difte ence in the chai'acters of the two armies 
than would have been the cnse had both been composed 
entirely of native born Americans. Tliis foreii>:n material 
demanded qu.ite different discipline and government from 
that of the American soldiei'S. 

Taken from the lower iaid<s in their own countries, 
habituated by birth and education, or the want of it, to 
rigorous obedience to customs and laws uidvnown to tlie 
people of the United States, the severest militai-y regime 
was necessary to keep them under efficient restraint ; in 
other words, mercenai'y ti'oops are wanting in that iiiheient 
love of country and pride of patriotism, and have bnt little 
of that exjjrit de corjjs^ wliicii characteiizes the soldiers of 
the United States. The Southern soldiers were not sub- 
jected to strict or regular discij)line ; in fact tlie want of it 
was a disadvantage and seriously felt, tliough wdiether it 
could have been prudently inforced is a question which 
presented no little difficulty, and if ever seriouslj^ contem- 
phited on the part of our officials was never put into execu- 
tion, and no doubt for vei-y good and paramount reasons. 
Hence it was untried so far as any really co-ercive discipline 
was concerned. As a general rule, so long as our men fought 
well and were oiderly, little else in the way of distrinhne 
was recpiired of them ; so that whilst in camp our enemy 
was most industriously exercising in all the details of tatics 
and the most elaborate drill, our men were inUiifereutly 


engaged in any amnsement or pastime suggested b}^ incli- 
nation or adopted from choice. Such an in\asi<)n upon their 
liberties as " ta|)s" at 9 at night ov any otlier hour, was not 
even thouglit of atter the tii-st few months of the wai-, in 
manv commands, and had it been kept np, ever so strictly, 
would have been the redtiction oF a very good ride to an 
absurd anomaly ; and this for tlie very good and com|)etent 
reason that tliere were no liglits to be put ont, tliat luxurj- of 
the early days of the war liavinggone to keep company with 
all the other nicethings towdiich tliey liad long been sti'angers. 
Tallow candles indeed ! why, tallow was not often to 
be had for other and move life |)reserving purposes, and to 
devote it to such light objei-ts as candles was preposterous. 
Indeed, stiange as it may now sound to us, 1 ha\ e, on more 
tlian one occasion during the war. seen tallow candles that 
happened to fall into the bands of some gravy-lo\ing indi 
vidiial, and made no one knew where, oi of what else com- 
posed l)e.-ides dirt and tallow none could tell - these 1 have 
actually seen myselt: melted up in some dirt-begrimmed 
skillet and niixed with a little musty tlour and ditch water 
manufactujed into — ves, into i>'ra\y, and afterwards 
devoured with a re ish that would seem somewhat too heavy 
for such aliglit subiect as a tallow dip ! What would have 
been the use for taps when all the light rations were manu- 
factured into fieavii gravy \ 

The truth was, not only this but other features of camp 
police, were seldom enfoi-ced, and then only under some pecu- 
liar ciicumstances or sujTOundings. Koll-calls were occa- 
sionally made (jn the march, but in some parts of the army 
they were altogether neglected ; geneially only at irregular 
and infrequent periods. These m.nor affairs were held not 
absoUitely necessary in an army where general and willing 
obedience to all im[ ortant rules and regulations was given, 
and where bravery was the rule and cowardice an unusual 
and exceptional occurrence. SStdl there v ere some stern and 
severe masters of discipline, mostly West L^oint men, who 
endeavored in their own respective commands to enforce 


United States reo^ulations, but with poor success generally, 
and instead of this increasiiio: bv coniinnnication to other 
companies and ix'ginients, it usually grew less and less in 

11ie]"e were also some summary and exemplary executions 
for desertion and (-tlier o;rave offences. On one occasion 
wlien encamped near (Ji'ange Court house, thirteen of tliese 
deserters wei-e shot at one tiuie — in view of Montpelier, the 
liome of Pi'esident Madison — a sight whic-h we cannot now 
recall, at this lapse of time, without a nervous shudder. They 
belonged to EwelTs coips and were from North Caiolina, one 
or two fi'om Viiginia and the rest from other States. The 
offence of souie of them, as we I'enu^mher, was foi' an attack 
upon some con>cri|)t gatherers in which the lieutenant in 
comm.and was killed. The entire cor[)S was drawn up form- 
ing an 0])en square, the tliree sides of which wTre occupied 
by the soldiers, and on the fourth the prisoners doomed to 
death, weie arranged in a row securely tied hy lOpes to 
stakes driven in the ij-i'ouiid at reojular intervals of a few 
feet — the \ictims kneeling jiisr in front of the stakes — all 
in view (f the liwuo body of their comiadcs assemhled as 
witnes.-es of the awful spectacle. By rules of war these 
militaiy- executi(jns are mad'i in puhlic, a custom the pro- 
j)riery of which we greatly doul)t, hut due no douht, to the 
same false idca> which authorize civil executions to he wit- 
nessed hy those whose extreme indelicacy leads them to 
Ijecome the gazing spectators of the dying agony and 
spasms of a poor fellow mortal. As a teri'or to evil disposed 
persons, and as a wai-ning example to others, these puhlic 
executions must be regai'ded very much as failures; and as 
thei-e can he no other ohjec^t in their puhlicity, as a vejy 
humhlc one of the hod}^ politic;, we here enter our distinct 
and unequixocal dissent against them. We are not in fuvor 
of fuinishini:: material out of the dyins^ am)nv of a fellow 
human upon ^vhich to feed and gratify the depraved and 
morhid appetite of gaping crowds. 


This was the only one we witnessed, and we were only 
present tlien from conipulso]i, and never, never a<2;ain will 
we l)e the willing or nnwilliiii>- witness of anothei", in war 
or in peace. 13;it few of these exti'eine cases happened 
ill our armies. There were hut comparati\'cly few \( Junteer 
companies in the South at the hegenning of the late war, 
hence our arnn'es were raised, eq!ii])i)ed, and put into the 
field without referem-e to the exj)eiience or training of the 
men. The comjtanies that did exist were provided with the 
most indifferent arms. The standing army wa^ asnndlone, 
and what thej-e weie, of course, helonged on the othei* side 
of the question. Puhlic feeling in this country was ever 
opposed to the quartering of soldiei's upon our levenue in 
times of peace as a uselesss encumbrance upon the interests 
of the ])eoi)le. 

Wars do not spring up like the winds between the going 
down and rising <»f the sun ; there coming are proceeded b}^ 
a series of unmistakable premonitory symptoms, and no pru- 
dent })eople in these days of rapid transit, |)rogress, and con- 
venience can be taken by surprise in the declaiation of a 
war, if such nation chooses to take advantage of those 

Another popular idea was exploded by the experience of 
this war — that a long course of discipline in tiine of peace is 
ne( essary to ni'operly lit the American soldier fc»r service in 
the Held. That may be true where soldiers tiij^ht for i)av as 
they would do any othei* wojk for wages, but patiiotism will 
convert the American into a soldier in twenty four hours 

True, practice in this as in all other relations of life, makes 
up the general standard of excellr-nc-e, but pluck, after all, 
with due respect of (»fHcers and of duty, is the mainspi-ing 
which woiks the machinei'y of success, and without it no 
troops can become etHcient. Theie is more truth than 
poetrv in the leason i>:i\en b\ one who couldn't stand t'> the 
front, when he said : he was brave himself bur he had "o 
control o\ei' his cowardly leg> ; that they would run do what 
he would to make tlieuu stand. 


Experience taught that a few weeks drill of American 
soldiurs was snfHcient, and Vii'ginians did well enough 
witliout any, {Jid to know the mere marniai was about all 
tliat could be learned lill lie is placed under tire, and that 
recruits from the b"dy of the peo[)le of tlie United States, 
hastily enn-lled and extemporaneously diilh^d, ai-e as likely 
toproNe as efficient on the Held hs soldiers f I'om gan-ison or 
barracks, who mav have been di'illed for vears. Still there 
is a certain strength in veteran tioops that may not always 
be found in those of less experience, but take the two from 
the same State and same peo|>le.and boih imbued with the 
same love of countrx and alike in all respects save in the mat 
ter of their bcinuf old and iiew soldiers, it will be found their 
fightii;g qualities are not so different as the amount of ex})e- 
lience would justify us in believing. We liave seen troops 
it. the tii-st tight stand tire with a coolness that veterans could 
not excel, and on the other hand ha\e witnessed the hasty 
and precipitate flight of old soldiei'S nndei* circumstances 
tliat ought not to have e^en inspired recruits with any surious 
alarm. 7'ake, f(ji* example, the battalion of cadets from the 
X'ira-inia Military Institute at Lexinirton, Va., who under 
the tremendous j^ressure that was being brought to bear on all 
sides of Kichmond in the summer of 1864, asked Governor 
Letcher to accept their services in the field and permit tliem 
toj'iin some part of the army, but preferring to connect 
themselves with General Bieckenridge, then in conmaand of 
of the small force that Avas ojiposing the advance of the 
enemy up the Valley of Virginia. Althougli troops were 
sadly needed, yet it was with great reluctance that these 
youths were jjermitted to take tne tield — some 25U in num- 
bers — they weie voutlis of tendei- veais, but few of them 
eighteen yeai"s old, and the niajority not over sixteen. They 
were pursuing their college studies, had never been engaged 
and probably none of them had even witnessed alight. But 
they weieof the tj-ne blood — the puie \'irginia stock, and 
Nouni^ or old. it will alwavs tell. Thev knew if tliev went 
into the held thev were suie to be in a liw;ht,and that in a 


few days, and that ^Yhat thev were about nndertakinor would 
be fit woi'k for old so'dieis. But they ^yellt, and in less than 
one week that body of youthful, beardless cadets — not yet 
attained to the stature of tnen — found themsebes in tlie vei-y 
liottest part of one of the bloodiest battles fought in the V'al- 
ley of Vij-o-inia, from the Potomac to Staunton. 

And did they stand tire, yon ask ! Go to the rolls, yet 
preseryed, upon which were marked that dreadful night at 
Kew Market, the names of those youtlifid heroes whose 
S{>ii-its had gt'Tie to join the great band of our fallen bi-aves, 
and whose lii'eless bodies lay stiffened in death on the ground 
they that day had so nobly helped to save. Would I could 
name each one of that youthful band of j)atriots. for if ever 
thespii'its of the fathers of V^irginia descended to inspire 
and enthuse the youth of the good old '"^tate, they were pi'e- 
sent on thai blood v lield of New Mai-ket the dav the Lexino- 
ton Cadets snatched a victory from out the very jaws of 
death, and like veterans stood and patriots died. 

The enemy were surpi'ised to know that thev who fcuight 
them so stubboi-nly and would nt)t p'ive back before the 
sc(>res of their own numbers they vainly ti-ied to beat back, 
wei-e boys of sixteen years of m^e who had (rome from out 
their class-rooms at Lexino-ton to plav the soldiei*, and be it 
said to the praise and honor of those brave men who learned 
this fact, like true men they legretted they did not know 
they were tigliting such boys, for said they : ''had we known 
it, we couhl never have aimed another shot at them — poor 
boys, we are sorry for them, but how they did tight! "—a 
tribute to their bra\ery and spirit, which came from the 
hearts of true men and o:enerou3 foes, toned with the true 
ring of pure metal. 

It is, therefore, a good principle upon which we have 
acted, that it is safe to dispense with a standino- armv, and 
trust, in the hour of emei'ii'ency, and of dana'cr aht-ad. to 
troops extemporized from the 2:reat bodv of the American 


When we conBidor all the ills of which the conritrv in 
this way frees itself, it is a inatterof no little gratulation 
t!iat we iiiav safely depend on the etlieieney of onr citizens 
for sol fliers wlien the time for raisin<r our army ai-rives. 
The histor}^ of all nations confirms the fact that large bodies 
of soldiers assembled together without the iiillnencc and 
presence of women, and deprived of tlie hap])y restiaints of 
the family relations, to gi\e them self-res])ect and indepen- 
dence of dignity, will sink into a moi-e or less degraded state, 
foi'in vicious and immoral habits, and soon become a diseased 
and infected community, demoi'alized and demoralizing 
public morals. 

Asa rule, Southern soldiei'S were imj^atient of that re- 
straint found necessary in all large armies; but from their 
chaiacters as private gentlemen, a willing obedience to 
orders and observance of the demands made upon them could 
always be expected ; and the only ])oint of divergence which 
marked theii' imj)Htience of restraint was restricted mainly 
to the monotonous details and insipid repetition of diills 
and llie i>olice of camp. These they did not like, in fact 
avoided them when ])ossible to do so, the general opinion 
rep-ulatino; this dislike beino;, that thev were merely adjuncts 
of ai)pearance and not indisj)ensable I'equisites either to the 
well being or efficiency of our armies. We have seen regi- 
ments diagged through the di-y, fictting evolutions of the 
drill under a hot, broiling sun without spirit or interest in 
what they were engaged, but who, n])on the iii'st alarm, 
sliook off their listle.-s apathy and marched forward t(Mhe 
fight with all the regularity of preciseness of ranks clost.'d 
up and files alligned, the true spirit of the brave vetei'ans 
stamped upon their every movefnent. Not that they were 
not actually well di-illed, did they show this dislike to fi"e- 
quent exercise and rehearsal whilst in camp, but they 
thought, and not without reason, that their exercise was 
severe enotigh without it. ar.d the di-ill once understood, no 
amount of practice could add to theii* efficiency, nor the 
neglect of it impair the 'confidence they felt in their own 
prowess and ability. 


This thing of continnall}^ drillino; is a wearying effort on 
both officers and men, and tlie dislike to it natural and 
rational. Again, no great care was taken to make our 
camps especially attractive b\^ their neatness, and often 
whilst our friends, beyond the picket line, were most indus- 
triously sweeping and scraping and adoriiing their own, 
our men were content with the comfortable ccnidition of 
theirs without any attempt at beauty. True, we lacked the 
large and comfortable tents they liad in abundance, 
and the difference between long rows of nnifoim tents, 
tastefully arranged, and the blankets or sti-ips of cotton 
suspended on poles and the other heterogeneous shelters 
arranged in all possible shapes and devices, which were the 
best the Confederates could do, was very great and striking, 
and v\diilst the one could easily make himself comfortable 
with plenty of good clothing and rations, the other was 
forced to limit his wants to a veiy narrow su])])ly of either. 
Under the same, or as favorable circumstances as onr 
Northern soldiers, we would have presented as nicely 
arranged camps, but the great plenty of the one in all the 
appliances which wealth ould suirgest, or ini^enuity devise, 
and the com])arative deficiency uf the other in these 
adjuncts of military convenience, was a difference which, 
contemplated at this lapse of time, seems to have heen 
almost enough to have insured the complete triunjphof the 
armies of the United States in a period of time, measured 
bv a few weeks and months, instead of havinir diacrired its 
slow length through four lono- years of continued but fruit- 
less efforts. In all artilicial respects, they had all the 
advantage, and no other comparision avails to tell this dif- 
ference better than to term the one the wealthy, the fully 
equipped, and the other the poor and indifferently provided 
for; the contrast running and holding good fix^m the 
burning of the ai-mory building at Ilai])er's Feiry in April, 
1861, and endino^ onlv when the last remnant of Geneial 
Lee s arn)y laid down their arms on tlie fatal iields of Appo- 


Onr main duty in the winter was the picketing of our 
line of fi'ont along the Rapidan, and for tliis purpose regi- 
ments wei-e moved down at a time — retraining a week till 
relieved l)y another, the ])iekets keeping ,np a friendly 
understanding with each other, resulting in the occasional 
intei'change ot articles and papers. By a niutual agreement, 
tlie j-esult (»f a tacit, hut understood cartel, the foolish practice 
of tiring at each other f ,-om the picket lines was of rare occur- 
leiice.and onlv indulii^ed in hv some imprudent and unthink- 
iui^" novices. Tliis wa< a s-reat relief to the men of both armies, 
for thouii:h n<n, affecting the general usefulness and watch- 
fulness of the j)ickets, it dis))ensed with mu(;h of the danger 
attending!: this important duty and thereby rendered it vastly 
more agieeaide and less ii-ksome. The amusements in camp 
w^ei"e of a various and hetei'ogeueous character. Some of them 
invented out of the necessities of the times, of a singularly 
unique yet novel character, just sucli as might be supposed 
to owe their orisrin to the few conveniences of a Confederate 
cam|). Uut necessity is no less the mother of inveution in 
times of war than in tliv)se (;f jjeace — rather the more, judg- 
inir from the attempts, crude though they were, made in the 
hitherto unknown and unti'ied departments of invention — a 
deticiency, like that of the manufacturing industries, we 
sup])lied from the fertile nurseries of ing nuity of ourCon- 
necticut friends of wooden clock and w^ooden nutmeg noto- 
riety. Some of those Confedei-ate tricks and appliances in 
the way of invention, which owed their production to those 
hard and trying times of complete blockade, viewed through 
the plenty and con\enience of the present, seem funny 
en ugh; but funny though they were, they served the im- 
portant pui-pose of developing a trait hitlierto totally 
neglected by the people of the South, and which we are 
glad to know^ has not been permitted to lie idle since, but has 
given to tiie world some remarkai)ly important and iuge- 
nious inventions; inventions which, bur for the pressing 
necessities which gave a start to our inventive talents, most 
probably ^yould not have been made. 



M}' rearlers will not be snrpri.^ed to know that cards were 
one of tlie most poiJular means of amusement, and tliat all 
the various oames played b}' tliese m\stei"ious and variable 
emblenis of clianre, were resorted to as sources of amuse- 
ment and the passing away of the hours, which at times, 
hung heavily upon the men in camp. It has been 
remarked, and with tiMith, that but few of those who did 
not smoke or phiy at (;ards i»efnre the war, but who learned 
both dni'ing it. and though I am no ajjologist of the one 
noi' defender of the other, 3'et dui-ing those times of almost 
nnrelie\able dullness and eiinuu awav fiom home a> d all 
tiie accustomeii means of profitable as well as imprudent 
uses of time, there are many little iri'egularities, we are 
Sorry to say, ])racti( ed now when theic is no war, and that 
too by those who are not, neither can become soldiers, which 
in our humble judgment are moi-e to be deprecated as evils 
l?er 6-^, than the smoking of good Viiginia leaf or the sim- 
ple playing at a game of cards for amusement in the tents 
and huts of their winter quarters, by men who think no 
harm, nor do any thereby, and only engage therein as a 
means of relief and relaxation of mind. 

The truth is there is sonjetimes more hai'm and evil in 
the way and manner, in the words used and how spoken, 
by tluse who undertake to decry and denoun(-e a supposed 
evil K)Y bad habit, than there is wrong in the evil or 
harm in the habit ; nioi-e sin commit'ted in the denounce- 
^ ment of our fellows, in the criticising of their acnons and 
decrial of in othei'S what we take to 1)6 somethini»: demand- 
ing a. good deal of talk and the re pi tit ion of a good deal of 
bad gossip, than theie is sin in the thing itself. 

Ganibiing is wrong and altogether so, but the mere ])lay- 
ing of a game of cards by the soldiers, to us. is not (juite 
as bad as the tearing to pieces of the charactei's of our 
fellows — an indulgence of a much w^orse character fre- 


qiientlj, than those who are made the unwitting victims of 
the asperse criticism and nngenerons gossippings. To see 
tlie men seated about in their rudely built house and mud 
chinked huts, industriously engaged in a game of seven-np, 
euclire or poker, each with the inseparable and inevitable 
Powhatan pipe in his mouth, suggested a scene of domestic 
quiet at home, if only all pi-esent had not been of the 
sterner sex. Eestricted as thev were in their means of 
amusement and in the absence of any general supply of 
books and papei's, those at their command were industri 
ously availed of by the men unused before, at honie, to the 
dental of any similar indulgences and ])rivileges. We 
remember a snow ball battle that took place during this 
winter, which for its noveltj', on so large a scale as well as 
for the days sport it ga*e, both to those engaged and almost 
the rest of the army as spectators, was an event of quite an 
intei'esting turn, although there was cons^'dei-able exercise 
and fatio;ne and some dano^er connected with it. Tiiere 
could not have been less than 5,000 men on each side, prol)a- 
bly more engaged in it, and they were regularly divided in 
companies and regiments and d ily ofhcered, the field 
and staff ofHcers or some of them being as much interested 
in it as the men. The snow was plentiful and in fine con- 
dition for the making of the balls, and the weather moder- 
ately cool. 

The sight was really a grand and diverting one, all 
the different details of a real tiiJ^ht beini^ adhered to with as 
much strictness as possible. The balls flew fast and thick, 
and as they passed and Vepassed each other in their course the 
effect was one of singular beauty and interest. All received 
mine or less of wounds, that is were struck, for in surh a 
shower of missiles it was impossible f(r any to escape. The 
charge and counter-c-haige. the retreat and halt, were all 
gone thi-ouiJii u-ith, and not merely for effect, i)ut because 
such were necessary duriiig the jjrogress of the battle. Nor 
was it a matter of effect to be the object that stopped the 
flight of these snowy missiles, for thrown by men used to 


laborious and continued exercise, they flew through the air 
as if propelled by some stronger power tlian the mere arm 
of man. The consequence was that some ac<:idents occur- 
red of quite a serious character, the loss of an eye or the 
breaking of an arm happening in several cases. 

When the battle had ended, by the victorious party driv- 
ing the conqured from oft the Held and even entirely away 
from their canips, then the regular yell of the Confederate 
soldiers broke forth in all its strange and powerful chaiac- 
teristics — not tlie studied hurrah of the iSorthern soldiers, 
given by note and in time, with the deliberate exactness of 
" one^ two and three, and a tiger^'^ but the spontaneous 
yell or shout of the Southern, every man stiiking out on 
his own hook at the top of his voice and as long as his 
wind would holdout. The contrast in the moment of vic- 
tory between the shout of the Confederate and the huzza 
of the Northern soldier soon came to be remarked, and no 
mistake could occur to those within hearing as to whu was 
the prevailing p-irty so lung as the ^hout and huzza was to 
be heard. They wei'e altogether dissimilar and unlike; the 
one running along the lire, each man in tuiii taking up the 
strain and adding his own |>ower (»f voice to the volume as 
it reached him, perfectly regai-dless of how, or how long he 
hallowed, till the volume of sound from so many voices 
rose hiiirher and hi^'her, and i>:iaduHllN' decieasino- as the 
men quit, from choice or fiom tatigue, till only a few voices, 
one here and there, like the reports from the skirmish liiie 
were to be heard ; or all breaking fourth again go through 
the same peculiar shout of triumph. The huzza of the 
other army was given with equal observance of time and 
of manner, the strains being those of the one, two, tiii-ee 
and a tiger, frequently rejjeated. My old comrades in arms 
will remember the exhilirating ehect of the C'onfedejate 
shout of victoiT, and no doubt, those on the other side were 
equally as n.uch enthused by their own. Here is another 
of the many traits of diftei'ence between the two which 
meet us at almost every point; this last one no doubt, is to 

be acooiTntecl, for from the fact of tliere being so many 
more large cities north of Maso and Dixon tlian south of 
it, and in which so niany moi'e chibs, societies and other 
civic- organizations exist, in vvh«»se meeti-ngs and pid)lic 
festivals or occasions they are accustomed to express feelings 
of aduiiration and respect by systematic expression. On 
the other hand differences in habits, customs and tastes are 
attributable to natural causes or education, and are alike 
o!)servable in the quiet of civil life as well as in the bustle 
and confusion of war. Education will re[)roduce these 
even th< u^'li hereditary intuition fails to develope them, 
and by the aid of both they ai"e sure to live in and be com 
municated fi'om one to the suc(^ecdiuiJ|: i»:cnei"a!'ion. 

llie prejudices of people are inate as well as inherit, and 
like the iieivc^rsiry (;f taste refuse to confoi-m to rule or 
recognize law. These sham battles were greatly enjoyed 
and gave food for action as well as for thought afterwai-ils, 
and served to drise off some of camp dullness — for of all 
places, save a Northern prison, for Rebels, the winter quar- 
ters of a largo army is the most spii'idess, iusijjid and weari- 
some. The very closeness of othei* camps and troops offers 
but little relief, for among them you may possibly not have 
a friend or acquaintance. Strange as may seem, no posi- 
tion in life is more productive of the growth of extreme 
seltishness than that of the soldier. At first he feels and 
acts as we do at homo, for the suffering and misfortunes of 
his comrades, but when he sees so much of these things, 
so many awful sights and cruelties, he leai'ns that he can- 
not be the instrument of relief to all, and soon acts and 
feels with indifference, knowing that his own fate may be 
as bad, and those who liave been killed or made to suffer 
so severely may only have had the adsantage of a few 
weeks or months, if 1 may so term it, over the time when 
his own lieath will come or his own sufferings be as great. 
His feelinij:s become more and more obtuse as the different 
avenues to hnrdships are opened, and decreased in inverse 
ratio to the increase of pain and horrors around him. 


There seems to be no help for it, for soldiers will fort^jet 
and neglect all those little niceties, amenities and courte- 
sies, so easj' and natural under liome influences and cono;e- 
nial surroundings, but want, pain and discomforts are by 
no means the nurseries in which they best grow and 
flourish. There is no doubt that the withdrawal of accus- 
tomed and usual facilities of ease, comfort and enjoyment, 
reduces in some minds tiie capacity to force and undergo 
reverses, whilst on the other hand, the habitual exercise of 
economy, the lack of comforts and previous life of want and 
of misfortune does not impair the powers of enjoying 
wealth and luxuries. The rule then can hardly be said to 
work both ways. 

The power of accommodating ones self to whatever may 
befall, is the sure proof of an evenly balanced mind, of a 
judicious judgment as well as Df a self command over a 
happy temper. In war, however, there is every temptation 
to become selflsh ; war itself is essentially so, and it would 
be hard to imagine that its influences must not be so like- 
wise. The absence of woman, who universally exerts a 
benign and tempering influence over the rougher and 
sterner nature of man, is a want, which, whilst it cannot be 
supplied, is the strongest argument in proof of the presence 
of many of the worst and most corrupting agencies in camp 
life. It is not good for man to be alone, and axiom which, 
pronounced by God in the Adamic age, has lost none of its 
truth by the layjse of time nor the increase of mankind. 

It were well to condemn war on the ground of its 
essential selfishness; it is proper to denounce it by reason 
of its manifest horrors and ills; it is right to cry out 
against it, because it never settles a principle nor establishes 
a moral truth, but a far better negative, and because nega- 
tive, a stronger cause for its decrial is that by necessity it 
must be carried on by man, and man alone, to the entire 
seclusion of his help mate, woman. The very and obvious 
necessity of her absence fi'om its horrors and its ills is the 
strongest denouncer. Kept away for months and years 


from her influence, alienated from the circle of lier hetter 
atti-actions, tlie soldier i-educed to the sole companionship 
of his (comrades in arms, it is not to be wondered that the 
balance of his moial nature, never too strong, wlien with 
her, yields to the force, or rather tlie want of it aronnd liim. 
The license of camp life is fearfully great, its temptations 
many, and its moial restraints few. Such is the experience 
of onr camp life, and if we speak of these things in an 
unfavorable light, it is simply to tell the truth. 

*' Vice is a monster of such fearful mein, 
Tliatto be shunned, needs but to be seen, 
But seen too oft. and familiar with its face, 
We pity first, then endure, then embrace." 

There may have been a quaint design on the part of our 
blockadino^authoi'ilies in their (unittinii: cards from the list of 
contraband articles. It may have been they wisiied to keep 
our oihcej'S and men from the contemplation of moi-e im- 
portant military affairs in their devotion to games of chance, 
and though the idea is a novel one, and therefore original, 
we give it for the benefit of an}- who may be contemplatino: 
a resort to arms as not unwoi-thyof their consideration ; and 
to be sure to permit plenty of playing cards to pass through 
the lines to the enemy; but under no mistaken plea of 
humanity to allow quinine, calomel, or any other drugs or 
medical stores to go the same way; for these, perchance, 
like our late Northern friends served us, might do some 
ejood in a C'hristian wav to the sick and afflicted. It is well 
enough, 3'ou know, to administer to the anjusement of stout, 
hardy men. bv oivinar them cards, but medicines are a dif- 
ferent thing, and hence were contraband of war. Certain 
it was caids were popular and plenty, and drugs scarce and 
indifferent, the former owing their invention in the 
endeavor to gi\ e pleasure to a debauched and pleasure-sur- 
feited king, were privileged in the continuance of their 
mission, and though ages have passed since their intro- 


dnction^ tliey still offer solace to kin£y, potentate, and legis- 
lators. But mark the dispatch and ready dismissal these 
easily transported agents of amusements receive, wlien it is 
known a battle is raging to which the carriers of them are 
hurriedly hastening. Then the better nature of the soldier 
asserts itself, and afraid of the moral stigm:i, inferentially to 
be drawn from the finding of a pack (^f cards on tlie body 
of a dead soldier, pack after pack of them are nervously 
drawn from their pockets, as the repr)rts from the front tell 
of the angry conflict going on ahead and to which they are 
hastening with the impetuosity of enthusiastic patriotism ; 
and one after another of these painted pictures are nn regret- 
fully strewn upon the ground, some faced and some not, just 
as they chanced to fall. 

But few, in that hour of dano^er and of death, dared to 
keep them. Here and there perhaps, some stoically liard- 
ened veteran, who had outlived his moral feiirs, or else too 
proud to follow the snit of lus companions, braved this 
moral preparation for battle and refused to thi'ow his much 
used, yet much cherished pack away. Perhai^s, prudence 
with him was the stronger motive, and he rather dai-ed to 
face the inference, if he were killed, than run the risk of 
obtaining another supply if he lived through the fight; for 
after all the bustle and confusion attending it were over, 
and again quiet in camp, it was absolutely necessary for his 
peace of mind that he should have his pack of cards and his 
pipe. How vividly all old soldiers will recall the pictured 
appearance of the roads leading to the field of battle, and I 
can well imao-iue a smile of quiet recollection stealins: over 
their faces, as they recall, in th.eir mind's eye, the thousands 
of scattered cards picturing the surface of the ground in a 
strangely fanciful manner; all as if in a grand, high sh>rf- 
fie, as though the grand high Mogul of Pandemonium was 
about to engage the whole army in one tremendous game 
of seven np. To assort and arrange the^e in their respective 
packs, would have required the patieuc^e of Job. But they 
never found themselves back with their former companions 

M],,4j|effa jne pack, noiv. \vitl> x t.hq. jsara^o'^n^r, t^pii^, ppm- 
|iel^3iC)(£.th^in afterwaads did ectn^ljjjijj-^ i^^trffi^'^^H lots^,^tlie 
ap}.»ropriat()i; c()iiteiited in _t,he ..diie^ jj)ps^;^splau. of . the iiei;e.s^- 
gary,vUuiH l^er of '' lif ty-tw'o." The.)- . \vere . lilve- Ci'UV f^! Uij 
pik<|)]s, wliicli liaving been exp(>rted foi\ii?e in tliaXJnmeaii 
\\^ai;,-;in-laj"i^e nnnibers, weie. duly ecmiplinientedb;)?, Uj^ 
Serene Majesty, the Czar of Russia, AvJiieli diil^ .appeared 
in^^}^^'U■'^*u paj)ers as an advertiHemeut-^_and ,a 'gu(?d 
|t ,^va^— rrto t'hc effect that ihongb many of theni were, hrx^l^en 
and nniit for nse, jet so perfectly- ,^'^^^ iii<^cly was e^^clV;attcl 
ei:ej;y p?,rt (jf- them made and prepared, that ,siiljstitulig»n jy^ 
|Jieir..sev,ef^] parts was easily aiid efi^^ectiuillY,n,iad.|.;,,fp^iuiiJ 
h\ falvJLis: out oi the one part damaojed, a.nd ijjttinVits ccniii 
"terpai't to it from another pistol uninjured^ijirtj^i^t^l^'ticjiW^ 
aJiiQAvapd: perfectly worivino- arm was the..,resi]lL'.^Ct|^^i$.'^asy 
sul)§t;iUirte..was regarded by his Russian rnajesty pne-of -ihe 
best features of Colt's army pistols, and as it, w.^^'^'lttVil 
ani reliable one, it did no little in thej^way of Vr(n^^i^ .tQ 
the notice of the nations of the world what h^l^s^^iej^jb^T 
come the acknowled2:ed and adopted snjall arm di.tfiasriincl 
other connti'ies. So it v^-as with the discarded and u^^st- 
away cards; they were so admirably snsceptiblepf tjl^l^ ruj^ 
of reciprocal substitution of parts, that fi\);m aji)jjiij^|'[]fj^-|9| 
them, a pack of the required kinds and ijiumb^ra'rY^p^-.e£^^^^ 
arraiiged, which by the way, is one of thhW.'^m 
no nmtter what their, bad^ ones are! 'The . ^i^ij|'^ ; ^^^ ji.ctiap, 
tjieir 'was before ' t\\Q haitje. (lif^omrl^^^ '^Iffif^ ^ 

■ t^rms/ which will present th^ir iithess Iiei'e//tQ aU j;^rd, iJIayT; 
oirs. " "^'An other i n d u st rious mode of em plQ^'lhg:— ^f]f wil).; lifjiy 
call it killing time, when the objec^t was tomur;,tfiejga^ 
found in that emplmmient— was, the hunting for' w^^ was^ 
derisively denominated :'Cgray-backs,"^ to dis'tihgiiish theMi^ 
may be, from their relatives by name,;the ''green-backs/ff 
or in compliment to the .peculiar kind. ()f money sii.bstjituted. 
for gold aiid silver, or pei haps, because t hey ",\y ere Both, 
a war necessi ty. These detestable ,, anajtom ical parasites, 
were at 'once the liorrcu' and,. the^ilxseDarable companTy 


^^i^;;ana Tliat a:slu)rt ^oiie ' tc^^vfor ;Hiem ' to .'conyeit .^li^ 


■tb t!ieir'p(^eu1ai/l^tes^'ifi ^h^: a1is(fiice,oT agntmiied wa^iii^ 

kivk}^ frr6irgDBi:is''aHH . ciiattie^ ^)y J^ap ^ 

even "bv t!)6se griramary'iriek;iW'i5f eject mm^ 

ceeded 111 thd oastifio? of the old tenants preparatbrj^'if) ' tlie 

^(IgiHir^^ijIifetSiffi v'iftil^f b^l^ i^ gHf of jlrecledeuce, 

^fiy^t!3^'iSrst'w8t^-'^aYii§?alt)ui^^^^ J>e exclusibit^of^n s^iT^se- 
^tiH^fiit'JifliJyU^fefsf ^ riiava oMi\ Wolrdered Avliei-e all;t\ies|e 


war? Wlierever they are, and wlierever they most do 
vegetate, may all the accumulated wi-atli and deep, inintter- 
ahle anathemas, maranatlias of J(.]inny lleb and Yaidc, 
descend npon tlieir scnri'ili)us, miscrocosir;atic anatomies, 
till this fair earth, from pole to pole, may forever be rid of 
their parasitical existence ; and this blcssiniJ^ I ntter for and 
in bel.alf of eacli and eveiy soldier of all the combiired armies 
partici|>ating in the late nnpleasantness. And this 1 do 
with peculiar and particular gra<'e in memory of all 1 suf- 
fered at their rapacious hands, and with the assurance, that 
in hurling it npon their devoted heads, I but give expres- 
sion to all the muttered and nnuttered cui-ses that indigna- 
tion can fi-ame and contem])t invent. It is not surprising 
then that these intruders kept things going on a lively scale 
to those who undertook ro kee}) their numbei's at the L)west 
possible uidaiown quantity, and tlie least falling off in 
effort or diminution in tlie attacks upon them, was surely 
followed 1*3'^ theii' increased re})i"oduction. Their |)Owers 
of eudurancte were somethir.g wonderful, and their complete 
anniiiihition impossible in a state of war, for not till peace 
had disl)anded and distributed the large armies and scattered 
their individual meiid)ers, tliat these toi-menting creatures 
were put to successful rout and conjpelled to seek new homes 
whei-e a new war would affoi'd tliem the gratification of their 
peculiar avocation. With the breaking up of cam]) their occu- 
pation fled and their chief glory was gone. Whether they 
surrendered and received their paroles on the grounds of 
Appomattox, is to be doubted, as it was said by a creditable 
eyC'witness, that after the aims were stacked, they might 
be seen leaving the fatal field of their past glory striking a 
bee-line for Jolmston and to the Trans-Mississippi, where 
war had not yet ceased. Some of our readers ha\e read of 
the great riddle of the Atlienian fishermen, and as it has 
su2:i?osted it^elf to us in this connection, we i!:ivc it for the 
beiietit of those who may not have heard it, and from it, it 
will be seen iu the days of the Grecian philosophers and 
soldiers, they experienced similar trials in this respect to 


Johnny Eeb and Yank. It will be remembered these jolly 
lishermen had been on an excursion to tlie sea, fishing, and 
it was on their retnrn thev c:a^•e this famous riddle, wliicli 
so vexed and mortitied one of their great pliihjsophers of 
that day that it is said he foreswore his studies and gave up 
philosopliy. The story goes: these lishermen were asked 
as they were making their way home what had they cauglit, 
meanino^ lio\V many lish ? The reply was given in tiiis 
enigmatical language : " What we caught we left behind, 
and vvliat we didn't catch we now cairy witli us." The 
habit of replying in this species of riddle-language was 
nsual in the days of the old Greeks, and often indulged in 
by the philosophers themselves. To those familiar with this 
riddle and its solution, the application here cannot be but a 
good one, and for those who may be unable to solve it we 
give the answer ; however, asking them to give it a ti'ial 
before they refer to this page for its solution: These fislier- 
men, it seems, were troubled with "gray-backs," too, having 
found it necessary, whilst on their Ushing trip, to give them 
a ^'' hunting uj)^'^ and as nsual with both ancient and mod- 
ern persons similarly employed in the murderous proceed- 
ing, they put all those to the death which they were fortu- 
nate (?) enough to find, and being captured and dead, were 
left on the held of their capture as trophies of whose pos- 
session they cared not, and as prisoners against whom no 
cpiartei'S were given. On the other hand, whilst the cap- 
tured ones were left where found, those still on their persons 
which had escaped the vigilance of their eyes or the nim- 
bleness of their fingers, they still carried with them — as 
good an enigma as that propounded by the Sibyl to the 
wise philosopher of Greece, who, unable to solve it, threw 
himself from the Tarpeian rock and was killed. We give it 
likewise, th(jugh not applicable to the subject, though leave 
the answer to the ini»:enuitv of c>ur i-iddle-lovinor readers. 
The Sibyl asked this wise man of Greece : " What is that 
which in the morning goes upon four legs, at noon npon 
two, and at evening npon three legs ? " This is known as 


the celebrated riddle of the Sphynx ; which was only 
solved by the iriter]^osition, so it is said, of some one of the 
many lesser gods of the Greeks, wlio applied to hy some 
one of them, the name I can't recall, was enal)led to give 
the answer and thereby caused the death of the Sphynx, 
whose tenure of life came to aii end when so solved l)y any 
one, according to the terms entered into between hersel| 
and one of the gods. ,£n 


This winter, '63—^, had not been one of iin usual sev^ijj^X^ 
tliongli in tlie early spring much rain had fallen, folJfj^vQ^ 
by spells C'f warm, balmy days, hailed with no specij^lol^tj^ 
faction by the armies, for well they knew the only ean^)it!wo| 
the cessation of active hostilities on the tield was tjife^ 4i'^ 
cnlty of attempting a campaign dui-iiig the dreadfj)Jts^a<t/l'5if 
the roads in Eastern Virginia. The low positi9>w> trf (jliii* 
country, ainmdantly supplied with innunierabjo^^ iSt|:^ftjn| 
and dotted here and there by large swampy di^st^Xkjte^'gerfe 
erally covered with water in the winter and sowjje.i-^fv^lwra 
during all the year, togetlier with the peculiar :cU3)elj'&f;>ifc 
prevented any movement of heavy trains ?iud!^]^Q)(^i^.iU^ 
armies. This soil is one more easily affected \}y im^\^jXU^u[ 
perhaps, any other in the South, a small fall oijVf^tti^r.^yeeili 
ily con veiling the roads into a thoroughly so§ke4 it^w\%^Vy 
bed, through which wag(jns will cut to a gm%ti/ <)i§[]tU\)^U& 
even almost impassable to footmen. '.\n-j8'j bad dnlA-.'f 

Tliis sticky, inelastic mud, adheres to ^wd'ihfQgg^'hijilU 
comes into contact with it. and shaking itf<j^- -^'((pdAv (t^\o^6,.i^ 
great, heavy slabs, is at once replaced Inia-ii^w.^-cD^ltin^iiii 
a few steps. It quickly di-ies uiidertJ^ie inlliieu;Cei!yfL<ih?e 
sun or wind, and its form is changed into arnother;ecpi^iJ^';-.H$ 
disagreeable as its former one. It then '$.4^e^ttlt^^hapejof 
adry,liiiely powdered and in-inuatiiig;d^m^^^Q>;eirMliijlicU^ 
deep, which tills the air under the trainpliiMg ofil^i^iiyirfeej^ 
and covers y(;u over with a yellowisU|^|t}j^gj^i M ^^R^^dm 

i'lwtr tf(^e'}^', biVe' (^f its ftitisi'clisagreeah^e f^a'tdi'e^ ■Fyt^iiVg'tli'e 
teiijlc'fvtv'Htitri AvhielF it, adWere?tfi\^Tiything^^a't''^'ft-il!'p^ 
feefeseyin'/Fik^fr sliape^^f)f:iitrr(JKiM' that of (f iist.:' Aft fi'mwhir, 
it is^ ^dd*'?rifs^rihiHmi;Aiid'vein^io!^i^bl^' \^^^ iiiav' he^'^oue 
Avitlijt'vntliofif t^\e'atid'i'fi'bii*t*&'^ber ^rti'ele^ 'Tim feature 
T3f it was- ]Vn)iVi|3fly'availeif'^(^4iy'tiie'Tneil. in bniklino; their 
huts and chininej% fV)f wnjtef'%t^c4ipatjq^^^^^ these roads 

in* tfeir \vintei*'cVVftditroil'^ c^lfiM ed" snte' secitlfrty' as^ainst 
inle?n'fi|.9tiSn • iif- Hie qirtet;of ' xt-itWer. titmf tdrs by ' the fear of 
an>^ atte'mjVted'^mbvfemeirt'HiiHhe^^^^ th^ di)eni3\ The 

ftpjyi%iti(fh'(>f'^May arid' the geiiial dnys' (if ffs^accoinpanying 
^v(:ktherpbdt()^eftWdf;, it' cVijfriffrrentremefit of .ai^arn resuming 
aetlVe"^ lOj^nitioiis';; ,'OK:6' b^eSj tjie xvaiTihi, ^dnn'ng weather 
fc)i;6etl-fheiti ty^spring^Vfirl<','.aiKbtlit5'Ul()ot1y deeds of death, 
respi'fM' - by 'ihti; "witVtfer ^iflg, pi'cptirtory sjmptonis were 
already bbseiK-^ibl 6'^ )ni^!^4)artt^ eneihV' occuin'ins: the 

Sfhe^'^sidfe of the RafrTdTrri'':^¥i'd^ R'ap}>ahannock rivers, ak^ng 
wli6se 'ban It^ his' pickbfe'W&r^' to'be s^en.'-' There had been 
}itfle'!?ldrhff^Miig,-and'^vV>leM^^^ had 

ef^;^1?^^%bt\M^6'ii-^itl^^aHff!ds"ih ^ to the evi- 

S%Vi'fr' %riiMf^^7ofi'''6¥'''b\VtH.'^^ T^his'im^ as^reeable and 

h«nf8ny\ag^'<^inaft^%as^reh€we(|\7dili^Ti^ the next winter 
ati'Bsfe MV6 sanie last ineifti<i^iWfiV^l\'" itere an abnost per- 
f^tit"gtHf^'''(>f fHertdshii> ^^*!i^ '5iMw^^^^ between the re- 

^|3e<iH^'^'pit-l-j(3tsi"aiM'e^th^^ papers, tobacco, trinkets, 

{^]^d-iM)i%'^kV{)sfantM^^a'iticie v*^r^^ fie(]uently and cleverly 
fnade'and- t'i^i'ttihfe"? ttlbOnraiTthbi-ities deemed it prudent 
fo"fiiit;ft\^t6p'tef-vv4 complications. 

Birtnxif 'j3^it?e^wet(^' ht4djii &eyei:|il instances to which our 
N(>rtfheiiri^^i<3^nds stc^*^^^ who came bearins: luxu- 

riort^-ferfpfnie's r)f Svijie find other acceptable supplies, with 
it^i'di-^^Mlelfi biit: fh0''Sidc^iit of corn bread and fat 

pbl'k-/^be%i^iy diiiMefS'^th^ir '^Southern entertainers could 


command. Tliese were notable occasions, and it was enter- 
taiiiino- to see witli wliat perfect good fellowship these 
opposites inter!Tiin_<>-led and dined together; soon to meet 
under circumstances of so much less g-ood cheer where the 
entertainment was aiven to feed the fowls of tlie aii' — not 
the inner man of tlie entertained. The signs to be seen on 
the part of the enemy soon assumed decisive shape, and on 
the 4:tii da}^ of May, 1864, General Grant began that cele- 
brated move by the left flank, which was expected to un- 
cover the capital of the Confederacy and end in its down- 
fall and capture by the parties t > this great move. 

A hasty, regretful leave was taken of our bad-looking but 
comfortable winter hojnes, knowing in quitting them we 
were leaving the very fevv comforts and conveniences we 
had, with the future filled with long, heavy marches, severe 
fightino^ and hardships. And, now, too, were to be thrown 
away and abandoned the most of our few cooking utensils, 
the few articles of extra clothing and all else wliich could 
not be carried on the back of the owner — those things, that 
great Roman general the first Coesar, in his history of his 
wars, denominates impedimenta — the plain P^nglish of 
which is impedimenta. From this period of the war till its 
close, there were no facilities for the transportation of the 
baggage of men ; it being impossible to provide the neces- 
sary trains, or to add them to the army, thus increasing what 
Ciesar calls the impedimenta. The French soldiers, it is said, 
can carry sixty pounds of baggage with tliem on the heav- 
iest marches with comparative ease ; but from severe expe- 
rience, we know twenty pounds to be a tremendous load to 
lug in addition to arms and equipments, and when supple 
mented with, sixty rounds or more of extra cartridges — too 
much weii>:ht under which to look for the i^reatest degree of 
efiiciency — what then must it have been to the French soldier 
with his sixty pounds'^ Indeed, I have frequently seen our 
men wearily plodding along, their stcjjs slow and* heavy, 
delil)ei'ately throw away the last blanket when at the same 
time they well knew they would suffer at night without 


tliem. Yet such was the extreme debility of these worn- 
out men,euervated under the depression of forced marches, 
without sufhcient food, that the addition of one pound was 
nni)earal)le and the reduction of tlieir load to so small an 
exteJit inexpressibly refreshing. True, tliere were exceptions 
to this rule, aud sometiiues were seen some few laboring 
under loads that did credit to their powers of acquisi- 
tiveness, but detracted seriously from their characters as good 
soldiers. Indeed, it was soon discovered that those wlio 
habitually kept tliemselves headed down and always eager 
to add to it, had other ends in view than such as should lirst 
be respected by the et^cient soldier. 

These were the peddlers of the army — the walking Jews 
of the camp — too overburdened to be up in time for the 
begiuuing of the battle, and generally shrewd enough to 
decline the invitati«»n offei'ed by stripping off their super- 
fluous ti-aps to ])ut them.&elves in fighting trim. We speak 
oulv of those who habitually did this, not of them wlio in 
those rare times of joyful abundance, either of a deserted 
canip or captured train, or sutler's shop confiscated, gladly 
availed thetnselves of the Yankee treasures, and after eating 
all they could, mana2;ed to carry off a good lot for future 
use. Those were gala-days for the p )orly-clad and worse- 
fed (/onfederate, and the extreme avidity with which he 
rendered unto himself the things which had been Caesar's, 
but now his own, proved that though he had been asti-auger 
to their use so long, he had, by no means, lost sight of how 
they are useful or as to tlie manner of their ultimate dispo- 
sition. The force of liabit is strong, and early associations 
ineradi. able. Earlv on the mornins: of the 4:th of May, 
Geuei-al Lee's army marched out from their shanties aud 
the different div isions took up the line of man^li by the right 
flank in the direction of the Wilderness and on towards 
Spotsylvania Courthouse; the entire army being diiectly 
Oj)j)osed to the line of march of the enemy, who had not yet 
got his long length fairly stretched out by the left flank 
before we had started too. Part of EwelFs men, to whose 



corps I belonged, became early engaged the next day on the 
outskirts c)f the Wihlerness, that vast extent of low, marsliy 
country thickly covered by iuiall nines and other low timber, 
and so dense in places that it opposes a serious obstacle to 
the advance of individuals, much less to large bodies of 

The fighting now became incessant and scarcely unre- 
mitted day or night, and yet all the while the two armies 
steadily making their way in a parallel direction on to Rich- 
mond. We will not follow its movements, as it has already 
been written too often. Step by step, on these two vast oodies 
marched, the ground in their rear being one long expanse of 
a field of battle, on which the dead and wounded lay in all 
their gloom and agony ; many of those thus left beiug over- 
taken by the tire that started in tiie dry, inflammable rub- 
bish, and died in all the sufferings of being roasted by the 
intense heat ; when on the morning of the 12tli, after some 
of the most terrible tighting, they were opposite to and near 
Spotsylvania Courthouse. Here the enemy gained a sig- 
nal success, and one which, but for the ready skill of that 
illustrious hero, General Lee, and the almost superhuman 
braveiy of our men, would have ended in the serious dis- 
comtiture of our entire army. Our corps was occupying a 
peculiarly formed part of the long line of battle, during 
%yho8e length rude and imperfect breastworks had been 
hastily thrown up — for the most part by rude implements — 
the men using their bayonets when unprovided with better 
ones. It was surprising to see how quickly these defences 
were constructed, and how serviceable they proved in the 
absence of better ones. They were generally made at night 
after a day of mixed marching and tighting, and left some- 
times half tinislied as the line of march by the right flank 
was resumed, those in the rear occupying and tinishing them 
as they mo\ed up in our place, the same means of defence 
and protection to be again gone through with on halting. 
These were hard times for the men, who having just left the 
comforts of w^inter quarters, were illy prepared to undergo 


such fatiguing work as a beginning of the campaign. Ewell's 
men occupied, on tlie morning of the I2tli, what was known 
as tlie "salient." oi' horse shoe, in the line of woi-ks, a point 
several miles fn-m Sp^ottsyhania (.'oni'thouse The special 
featui'e of tliis salient was t!^e causes leading to its formation, 
growing out of the impracticahilitj of continuing the line 
through it in a straight direction. The ground where the 
line ought to have been was a deep morass, impassable to 
artillery and not capable to the passage of troops. Men 
could not pass through it, save by wading, the water in 
places being several feet deep. 

This swamp was of considerable extent, and it therefore 
became necessary to place the line either to the rear or in 
front of It. It was placed in the front, the result being the 
line at this point took the shape of a V, the opening of the 
letter leading to the swamp in our rear. Here had been 
stationed a large park of artillery, some fifty pieces, we 

The distance from the vertex of the V occupied by onr 
division to the line of the enemy, was not more than 500 
yards. This ti'iangular line running around the swamp 
a(;commodated itself to the character of the ground in its 
direction. It was a position of special danger and respon- 
sibility ; at a weak point at be^.t, and without the artillery, 
extremely untenable. The had succeeded in forcino^ 
through it the evening of the 11th. By some unaccount- 
able and most unfortunate misunderstanding of orders (it 
could not have been otherwise), all the artillery on this 
salient, some fift}^ pieces, all occupying a position less than 
the fourth of a mile, had been removed after dark the 
evening hefoi-e, and consecpiently were not in position the 
morning of the 12th of May. 

This was a most perilous mistake and greatly did we suf- 
fer on account of it. Artillery could do good woi-k here, 
and yet on that eventful morning not one single piece was 
with us. Such was the state of affairs after a continued 
fall of rain from the middle of the night. The men in the 


ditches were soaked tlirough, were tired and hungry. They 
liad only suceceded in di-i\ing hack a Vdv^i^o hody of tlie 
enemy at midnight previous, who had bi'oken thi'ough tliis 
same salient. 

Bef-re davlioflit we were awaked fnnii onr cold, nnre- 
freshing sleep, b}' what was thought to be tiring from the 
skirmish line a few rods in our front. Suddenly a heavy 
volley from the infantry, followed b}^ the well known and 
peculiar huzza of the Yankee shout of triutnph. There 
was no mistaking this sound ! All sprang, wet and wearj^, 
to their arms. The line was airain broken to our left, half 
a mile (»ff on the side of the salient, and a rushing, trium- 
phant body of tlie enemy was already in our rear, sweeping 
the lin.e as they came, and making toward us with all tlie 
eager, impetuous rush of victors. What men could do, men did 
that day. l^ut not one cannon was there, and what a work 
then was there for cannon to do! AVe bei>:an tirino; as 
rapidly as we could to our rear, on the moving, shouting, 
hordes that were coming. Just then, and when the enemy 
were within 200 yards of us, one single tield-piece was seen 
cruning — cutting its way tlirough water and the advance 
of the attackers. It had started with six horses and three 
diivers, and there wei'e left two horses and a single driver; 
the rest had been swept off by the hissing, death-dealing 
shower of lead that pc^ured out before the march of the 
enemy. We shall never foi'get the cool, nervous braverj^ 
of that one artilleryman! Wounded and bleeding himself, 
he urged his terror-stricken horses to the point at which we 
stood; his jaded animals scarcely able to drag the heavy 

Quickly reaching us he dismounted. " Who will help 
nie to nnlimber tiiis piece?" he nervously shouted, lie 
did not have to ask again, f )r there were brave men there 
that day, and jumping out from the works, a young man 
from a Woodstock company quickly went to his help; 
where, maddened by a wound in his cheek and from the 
fate of his fellow drivers, stood the lone driver at his piece 


waiting for some one to assist him to pnt it into position. 
The balls were flying thick and fast, and it seemed madness 
to leave the safety of the woiks and go to the help of the 
brave cannoneer. But it was done. James Albert, known 
among his (M)mpani(jns for his staunch coniage, as Genei'al 
Gates of Woodstock, jumping out fi'om the protecting 
cover of trenches, volunteered iiimself and called for others. 
His example was sufficient, and several of his own company, 
heeding not the rain of balls, and almost certain death, 
came to his assistance and that ol the bi'a\e artillerist. In 
a few seconds, or less, it seemed, that piece was tilled almost 
to the muzzle with solid shot, canm'ster. and wdiatever came 
iirst, and the indomitai>le General Gates giving a nervous 
pull on the lanyard, a peifect storm of tnissiles went crush- 
ing, tearing down the hill, almost in the very face of the 
aclvancinir foe. Such a shot was nevei'flred, I imagine, and 
its execution was only (^onimensui'ate with Gates's ideas as 
to what a cannon should do under such cii'cumstances. 
Even his demands and expectations were moie than I'ealized; 
and that single shot, directed l)y his own steady hand, cut 
down +ifty of the foe in less than seventy five yards from 
the gun itself ! 

It was a patriotic and daring action, and feaifully did it 
tell on the moving column of onr attackers. All this hap- 
pened in less time than it takes to tell it, and had there 
been twenty such pieces and as many (General Gateses read}^ 
to introduce his novel artillery practice, live thousand Con- 
federates would have been saved, on that memorable 12th 
of May, 186-1:, from all the horrid and unutterable miseries 
and sufferings they shortly afterwards underweut at Fort 
Delaware, Point Lookout, Elmira, and ('amp Chase, and 
reserved to the help of Genei-al Lee, instead of an iidios- 
pitable stay of a year at these mineral )le })ens. But the 
enemy was successful, and in a few seconds from their flrst 
getting to our rear, five thousand of the best of Lee's vete- 
rans,and mostly Virginians, wei-e marched outfj'omthisman- 
trap of a salient, prisoners of war, the victims to the neglect 

aGreneral (4ates did a soldier's whle par-t on tliat e-^^iftf ttl 
Taiiiy nioniing, nnd f^o -did all. HisgreatcPt r<>^ret, aird^mfe 
eqnallv slmi-ed i)v his eoniradias' \vas tlie ireces'sitv for his 
t aJv i 1 1 g d o \y n a 1 a )ge a 1 1 d f a ri < ri f n 1 1 y h? t te re^"! pi a( -ar d ' pi jtt'ed 
above tliewoiks liy his own harid^^aiid on which were printed 
the \void&:- "Fort Snnipter, never to he surrendered!''" llad 
.there been in addition to the brave hlenafewcannOn^ff vlever 
would have had to be pidled d<>wn,^ind wOuld have remained 
a tru^ propbe<'y. -We greet you, (3txtes; in retnebraneei^^ 
that moniing and of Forts Sin nptei* and' Delaware! ■- '^' ^^ ^ 
': We will not speak" of what happdned^that iftoi-niii^pd^ ^i 
wkoi/i wo found safelv find quietly eseoneed i'n oneof-^tJi^ 
bomb-proofs of the a^rtil lory— but 3*011^' patriotF(i- heai*t ^iid 
heroic help. Gates; were in pleasant -contrast to the 'c^yiy'aci 
of <9'/?^ whose voice should have been heard arid 'pi'e^ii'c^ 
feeeii among the men in tliat tryirig hour, and iiot hid- 1a\\%^ 
in a bomb-proof Theh)6s thisday was 11 severe one, thdngft 
our lines were retaken in an hour afterwards and nidre 
prisoners captured than our men lost, yet the eaptnre of 
General Ed. Johnson, a host in hiniBelf, told sadly against 
us. This was the occasion when General Leej^sWih^flie 
ad va^it age gai ned by the n« m hev^- of the 'eil€iM}1, -^nd li r^ed 
by the demand for prompt^and sigrial at^t^kin/'tliiiliindfill of 
his own pers< >rial safety, rode into' th^ breach Whek-e' all 'ii'^s 
confusion and disorder. = -The'^br^Ve ^oldi^rSj overcome'- by 
the ma<xitude cf their loss and disheartened- by ■tlie^tate of 
affairsvrecoo^lizino: the formof ntheir bdloved leader 1% thdir 
presence, at once lost their fears ftnd th^-^woff their ; depres- 
sion and were ao-ain the staunch and fearless- N-^terans.'^- Bill 
they would not hear to his leading the diarge that mu^t at 
once be made to retake the lost - line. ^ Here the- strong 
devoti<m of his men evinced itself-^So thorough uitsel^iish-^ 
as it was sliown by the tattei-ed, ragged and- hirngry/ iwei^ 
around him. They demurred ! they plead 1 but sH ft. t-heil 
leader was strong in his- determinatioiiii^'^ *' o^^oiii ixiii^^iiJiJi 
joai'^on 9iiJ ui eauj^'iv oilj 'Uivv lo oiynoaiiq Jifoilxja d io curij 

^^ji^itli ji[;i;ifi.7VitH^^^^%!^i^0i*^ic^nWr^U>^H a,;i)d [not; =^!tti omen t 

9-f.5WiG^^ a x^etemii uH vviirTiaiii'ked.u'itjla sm()!ke,^:|x>wd6 
4i)M, iJi^U h\& .ey^^ tig^htedr wUii-.tlie timi ^ patripti:(^; C( uirage^ 

>tiil#>^ ij^tqslhjB; eti^i'ge., ;bvit;(5r(?n^ml! 3Eieem«tstg^-to tlie i-fear ; 

^ftl>%^'4.axidjlt((>i>(3e<^nr) j^rFJ^^ ni .bib 70i\l U:d7/ l8i>l 97/ biul 
9oQo!i"iil4 ^uj^ (JevotioiT b& \>ior^ snlxlimely Imaiitifail^ 
^\^^}^jii^ly^ |i^nanrdr ai^di itp^eJta^h-ly jpht\ioiA(^:^ Tbesylwdiild 
•g^i flt'si <t(li^ijd#M{i Jibieinaah'^^i blit tbei r jitmxH'ed leader must 
.be -sa V>qd; > i;tb§ir^O wii :pl^c0^ [ttij^li^ 

}i,(?yeihib^i^llied,Ii ^H^iiWeUjto^ 4idili« IvMowhis-iiaeiiaud 
j!)iil^tli(^V .>v^m.lJO;be;;tiuastedii qiU n\ vrn-is 9dJ liliv/ yla^olrj 
.j,;.VV"4i^^iii. ,a jnoiiieiit of abso^-biiig -and ■ deaj^erate tliought 
fc'ineaH,fc>jfMrj;th^e best, lie now. saAV w-uiildwork only harm^ 
aii>d.t.J:iat;\v:Mcb he-thoaglit;C()nld best be done-iuvliiis: pre^r 
e«(fe;VV,aS|:f)i^t. of the.- question to be dx)ne, save only on his 
y&t'\rQj^wiit and in liis ab^euie from the/fronts.i i^j-q aii bun 
jj.,ll; j;iy;^St4inde4>: ^ncbi c4rt;amgtances the iiero afid the chrisr 
ti,an[ .tvia,r/:iojn^ the greatest and the best of th;ose battle days^ 
yieJdfed -tOt -thiEj-^ipble i inpnlses of his men^ and; th&; uharge 
>vi)S,;mafi^,;itho;Urne, regained avid the day, and ;th« army 
• savtedj^ They .had< done what tliey promised, and their Gener 
raljhad been- kept iromdangor. No numbers, no bra^'er3^^ 
JiOthijig could §t()p that band of Spirits, who rushed from 
t;lrie; presence af their beloved Lee, like an avalanche broke 
lpo6c,;ii<to the self-assnmed task. Many an one of them 
di(^ not live to see their flng again -float jug over the salitiit) 
l>ii^.ti\eir d^r^ath was sacred -in the sublinie consect'atit)n of 
tbeir last :bonr; to dnty and to love. ' From , that' day Lee's 
pOivtidence in his men was doubly secure, and- he never 
^pnbted, their ability; to do alL in the power of men t(^ 

^^HWJtiftai T»l^9jteiitUfgJng§§,,of j tbk:>iip<fid^\\k.iu^tt^sted 


by Geul Lee himself. But our loss that day was one not 
to be siippied by new recruits. The country liad already 
been drained and no more vrere to be liad, whilst tlie enemy 
were daily beinii: strengtliened by additions greater tlian 
tlieir losses. A loss by capture or by death was not serious 
to them ; only a matter of an liour or two, when tliey were 
doubly rei)laced. Their supply of men had not been per- 
ceptibly diminished, and though ihey lost treble to ours, 
yet it amounted to nothing, for they had plenty moi*e already 
on their way to the front. The truth is at this very time, 
had we lost what they did, in just one month, there would 
not have remained a full division of 700 men to Gen'l Lee. 
And here we will be pai'doned for saying a few things 
about Fort Delaware, to which prison tlie greater number 
of the Confederates captured on that day were can-ied — we 
only do so as a matter of being relieved from staying too 
closely vvith the army in the field — and what we say shall 
be said vvithout unnecessary comment — only a part of our 
experience on that drear}^ spot for neai-ly a year. This 
island, like all other remarkable places, has its romance, 
and this we will give iirst. America is too new a country, 
and its past history, jn-ior to its discovery, too vague and 
uncertain, like all ti'aditional history, to give to its past that 
interest which lino;ers around that of the Old World, at 
once its pride and its glory of ancestry, still our country 
keeps well in the trac^k which, hereafter, when it has grown 
old, too, will surround its history vrith romances no less 
entertaining and traditions equally as interesting. All this 
will come around riij-ht when time shall have rubbed off tlie 
rough corners of our freshness. Ages hence, when time 
shall have cast tints about the annals of our fair and pros 
porous Auierica, our romances and legends will then, too, 
have taken on that air of mystery wliich will make thetn as 
attractive as tho.-e of the Rhine or the Tweed. Many a ears 
ag(», the storv runs, when our maratime commerce was in 
i(s infancy, and the period of the giant power steam had 
not yet coiue, nor made to obey the hand of the pilot, nor 


yet to pl:>w tlie briny deep from the Old to the New 
Worlds, the coastins: vessels eni^rao-ed alon^; our loiio- line of 
Atlantic sealv ai'd in carryino^ our pi'odncts from one place 
to anothei", a lai\i>:e sailing vessel was bonnd fi'om one of the 
Sonthern ports to New Vork, or some other Northern citv, 
laden with a cari^o of peas. Thei-e was then no land visilile 
where this island now stands. In'om t-ome accident to her 
hull, this vessel sank immediately over this point in the 
water, some four or five miles fj'om shore to shore — the 
ship and I'^er carao settling down in the deep water never 
ai>;ain to rise. The action of the tide, very ixrait here, 
throwing up the satid around tliis wreck, first s'ai'ted the 
formation of this island. The sunken ship was the unwit- 
ting cause, the r.uch-us around which was formed Fort 
Delaware — afterwards to be famous as one of the meanest, 
and the worst of the many mih'tary pj'isons of tlie North. 
At fii'st it was called " Pea Patch Island," in cf>mniemora- 

V tion of the cai'go ot^ peas tiien con-igned to the briny deep, 
and further honored, and deservedly so, in verse, l)v a sonir 
commemorating the event of its history. Its gr- wth seems 
to have been a lapid one, and in a few years it attained the 
size of a very respectable island, and from the selection of 
it by the Government as the site for the ei'ection of a large 
stone fort, it took its presenr name of Fort Delaware. This 
fort was intended to guard the approach, by water, from the 
bay, though, it was said, whilst we were tiiere, that the au- 
thoi'ities were afraid of lii'ing salutes from their hea\iest 
guns, lest the whole structure would tumble down and the 

^ stones roll over into the sea. This may have been only a 
\report. The truth is, however, that so little was it feared by 
the prisoners, had they be<^n armed, that General Jeff. 
Tho'.npson avowed they would not have dared to lire upon 
them owino; to its tottei-ino- condition. Here larire fi-ame 
sheds were erected, and the island converted into a prison, 

^ there being some fifteen aci'es in it, the distance from eitlier^ 
fchore al)out three miles, and is some forty miles fiorn Phil- 
adelphia. Here, alter our ai'rival, were confined nearly ten 

t^ioiisariiid prisoners of \^a>pi-the?'^fli0ei'g| s^iiae ^'fift^ejin^^- 

tlie men wei^et cositirhedii iTlia-oti^' '■nnpai4}6iia'te"'n^rfe'6i'^^^ M 
.thisiplace, an-di ilt ■■ imist-ha/ve' -b^eiV' fefeiected ' ^)i^ tM^ h''^Uh6\\, 
3vns tht> total alrseiici© oififfresh' vvk»<eV-— ^th^Ve'lbei^iiot^iio^t'^'l^ 

tlie j?ivBr itself wm &xtA^eme\yAitUi^Ms\\y%eu\^'reeciS\\hd^'^^^ 
Jb.F the tides. Tiiisiseriaibnv:anJtiwais iiiidBrta^^ trci-yeyffj5- S 
pied-by miii rw^tei^-f mm uif- tlie 'e^t^tisi'Ve 'shtedditi^,''bfl^%1iys 
wa§(t5ibiit/4it^leia\^a;i;l, m 10^0'dOy^id!r^J^ied;r'g¥^at-(;ffVapj{^ 
of J 

tia>jlo^;'t^^^^at any tiiiie did they fnrmsh Hi^' a' ftiii'-clr ad^- 
q;»ate sii pplv.i" Ther'e; weie liarnAv ditches, (ir t-reiiGh^s^' dtvg 
.t!r!<iH>f,'h)the '^cHnid's, 'from ' lieacli ^ W ' be^clj ; thi%1igh ' \i;]ii'e1i | 
the. sal t; water of the I'kler ^ was^ driven l)y ■ ihe tidfes',^ Jiri (j^ \\i\-s, 
y(ml> hy ] o-rcl ea-fe; ntade the only -water to he it^ed ' f^i'wti;&Mi% ; 
^11^ Jiands, faces and clothes, even> if- there happ^ed^t(!)''b% 
plen t-y of i"aiu-s\iater at the time; ' ' Tiie action of the hot' f[\% 
;^<i)n verted this trench-water, ih'aiihoin' o?i*t#d^-into^^^^^^^^ 
-a, putrid liquid, utterly nnti^t ^foratiy 'purpose- Or' ti^e!.^ -Th^r^ 
.>\ia&'a.M(tther device,' at least' so given ont -and widei-stood, 
Ibfyfjth e . an tlw irJ t lesj bi 1 1 ■ sadly n egtec^tjed v ^' Y^ ' <^p ' t^t' i f| 
■a^nd tltat 

and ;;U rice rtaiKuty .. ■ ^ , . < . , 

d a^- s > toge the r , and • w^ k i i o w i t Jri: »m' tf %ad' tii^t^'i* • ^ p^r ie^ciS, 
not one ■dro}> of fresh or pklat^ble -Wat^r' W'^^ t^ I5e 'lrmi-'% ^. 
theinenrin; the barracks. -'Of tyourse we' h'ad fKy^ic^, arVd 'hi' y 
tlie^tiinetl^^ water renx-hed us in the'hold'of'aH^esseilfot a 
la and red miles, it was in ^no veiy palatable condition. :' (')eca- 
§i(uvally in fecarceitimes^Twthich bappeined often^^Some lilc^ky 
fellow, ;who had the m(»ney, ctmld buy a driuk bf What WaS 
called ;clea]n:wat&r,i at ilv:^ cents a drink— good 'it^ 'Was tVdtt, ^ 
but a iluxifii-yjlheuii i<Whit^n-^ve were- reduced to the;ditchfe i 
ifioir (irkiJiirigjwiater^ weica^ijconeeive of no sulfei^^ig gi-^ktbi'^^ 


|l|at ji?i,i,i[i tj?^ al]fSG^(>e ofr.roafl, pliysieal pVm. 'We §^iiKider 
^\ ^lp,9,,ijex'oUe<:;tioi^,(>f all we suffered; when. under a broiling 
^nn, f lie. hot, pardied' sand all around, ns, and no longer ahle 
to withstand (uir burning thirst, we essayed the dire alter- 
native of drinking the half putrid, brackish water fi-oni the 
JtreiK-hes.: . So far froni being a relief or quenching the 
-thirst, it Invta^gravated and incieased onr misery -endina: 
^ often in sickness and vijuniting. This was the fiuitf4il cause 
^nd source pf inostjC^: jthe, stomach diseases at Fort Dela^ 
^yai-e.j tha,tenpihQf OArP.H)en and the detiers of medical aid. 
Ohroiiic^cjiafrrlio^a^.wa^ j^a^ore to be feared there than sniall- 
])o^ i|:,self,,and |5Q -It^was ;nnderstoc>^^ and dreaded by the 
suifgepiis 'and we only -state what the facts will prove on 
ihe)records _of thai prjsoi?, that more died, in proportion to 
th(? ijamjoers;, resjjectiyely affected, from chronic diarrhoea, 
fl)an_ i^;o,ip : any jother ; dis^^ included, and the 

mortiiai^J reports tJi^n .: k^pt Avill bear me fiut in the asser- 
Xdojij/and we had small ;p()X pretty niuch all the time. 
Aside from, the want ^f good water. Fort Delaware was 
neither beJ:ter;nor;wQrse than other Northern prisons, we 
guess—the saine. in(H)nve)n'ences, sufferings and ills l)eing 
encQuntered there as at pther similar prisons. — all of which 
aan;^| known -to Jthtyse who passed under the rod and 
fliron^k th^;;niiJLv ;TjHve, we had no shade there, and the 
IiotrS^n :P<>:"V6d down upop ns in the summer, followed by 
thjesanae intensity of cold;J:B; the-winter. . Long shall we 
reniember the Old Pea Fatch, and our stay of a year (^.n its 
inhospitable shores ; and, w^ seldom recall it but what the 
image of a slight, delicate jouth from Virginia who, luiving 
(,1^ssed safely through many^a bloody fight, fell a victim at 
this miserable place, shot through and through by an over- 
zealous and spiteful guard. And he, too, lost his young 
and promising life through this same terror to us all— the 
ij water of Fort Delaware. Of delicate and I'etined educa- 
J tion and habits, Johnny Bibb, of Charlottesville, was a gen- 
j| tlemxin as well as a brave and nol)le soldier. He ne^ er 
gay^.^ip intentiopaj \ypnading of feelings,, or did a selfislj: 


act U^ friend or foe. Scrnpnlonslj neat in his liabits, he 
endeavored to take all ad\antage of our scanty supply of 
watei', and with this end liad tilled his canteen in the 
eveninii^ with whii-h to Siip))ly himself during the hot night, 
and to make his morning ablutions, instead of gohig to the 
dirty, slimy water in tlie trenches. It appeared afterwards 
an order had been issued, but not made known to the pii- i 
soners — and no effoit was made to inform them — prohibit- 
iniT the throwincr of waste water from the bunks on the 
ground inside the enclosure, any infraction to be reported 
by the sentinels. The order was a strange one, at all events, 
for after taking this water out it was finally tlirown just 
wliere tlie order prohibited it from being thrown from the 
windows, or it ran there after bein<>: thrown out. Our 
friend Bil)h was io-norant of the order, and so were those 
on his floor. The next morning one of his near comrades, 
incautiously and io-noi'antlv, threw S(nne water out of the 
window nearest vouno* Bibb — a thini>: all had been doino; — 
when a surly, mean and inhuman sentinel seeing the act, 
without a word or a sii>:n, i-aised his musket and sent a ball 
crashino- throuo^h tlie window, and in a few minutes younoj 
Bibb was dead — a victim to the petty tvianny and cowardly 
spleen of a monster in a soldier's dress. The less feeling 
and most vindictive of those 2:uards were the neurroes, 
though nt^ne of them had ever been at the front or in a 
battle. Tliey were mostly what were called ninety-day 
men, and enlisted for garrison duty. Brave men, and 
especially those wdio had been in battles, would not do 
the mean things tliose guards at Fort Delaware did. ^i 

Nor was the one we gave the only case of a similar kii^J 
that took ];)lace wliilst I was tlieie. A colonel, a crippled 
prisoner going on crutches at the time, was ordered by a . 
sentinel j)laced above liim on a '''' innlk around^'' to hurry 
on whilst comins: from the meal room to his l)arrack. He i 
was one of a number, returning from his room, dreadfully 
crippled and unable to do more than hobble along at a slow 
gait. The colonel did not hear — that w^as clearly proved 



afterwards bv others — and he himself said he did not hear 
one word from the sentinel, and because tlie poor cripple 
did not jnmp along at the risk of falling, this sesitinel — 
this iiihiiman — tired at him with his back tu\\ard him, fri-ni 
his high walk, and the poor crippled man fell and died in 
a few hours. These two are truths, and can be proven by a 
^thousand or more of truthful men. Too many of tlitse 
' thintj^s occurred on both sides — the result of the over-ridins^ 
of the better feelings, and tlie presence of cool, calculating 

And whilst an ex-Speaker of the House of Kepresenta- 
tives of the United States, and a prominent seeker for the 
Chief Executive office of this country will persist in the 
most public manner to accuse us of the South for having com- 
luitted more and greater atrocities on oui- prisoners of war 
at Andersonville and other places, it would be well for Mr. 
Blaine to remember that tliere was a Fort Delaware, a 

Jpoint Lookout and other Northern prisons, and that a I'eci- 
tal of what happened at those places would satisfy any 

i honest seeker after the truth, that neither side has anythino- 
to be proud of, and that the blame does lie at the door of 
that side which could have set the proper exan)ple and pre- 
vented the South from becoming: the nnwillino- j'etaliators 
of wliat had been perpeti'ated upon their own men. These 
prisons begot a degree of unfeeling indiffei'ence and apath}^ 
to the sufferings of others as are a sad evidence of the natu- 
ral tendency of natures to become callous and seltish. 'J hen, 
too, the knowledge that we are unable to render aid from 

i- our impovei'ishment — an excuse we readily assume for neg- 
lecting to njaking an effort, there being but few straits into 
which we can fall but that we may offer some aid or com- 
fort to our unhappy comi-ades, if we possess the will to go to 
their relief b-y foi-getting our own unhap[)y condition. J^nt 
daily association with the wretched, wiuMi we are one of 
tliem, is a good school in which to learn selfishness, indif- 

^ ference and hardness of iieart, as well as for the forgetting 
of what may be termed the finer feelings of the heart. We 


refrain from saying more abont onr prison life — they are 
things that can do no good — but we vamM say much about 
oui- treatment then and our fellow-prisoners that would go 
fai' in rebutting the unfair and unjust asr»ertions of Speaker 
Blaine et id wines. These things should be permitted to 
slumber unawaked with all the horril)le ones begotten of 
that unfortunate struggle. They will survive as long as the -. 
actors live, for memory is jealous of its powers, but we may ) 
by means of mutual agreement, let the past be buried and 
the bloody chasm bridged over anil not indulge in their 
repetition. We can, at least, be careful not to bequeath 
what we can't forget to be a living legacy to generations yet 
unborn. By doing now what, if done before, would have 
prevented this war, we can improve the lessons of that bitter 
experience to be a lasting benefit to ourselves and to the 
coming gloi*y and prosperity of our country. This the 
masses of the people must do. Individuals will fail if un- 
supported by tlie great body of the people. So, t^o, here and j 
there may be found individuals who are now seltishly agita- 
ting all these things, l»ut their efforts will assuredly fail so 
long as the people refuse their consent and support to such 
seltish aims. 

Another characteristic of the treatment of our men at 
Fort Delaware was tlie refusal to permit them to have more 
than one shirt, one coat and one pair of pantaloons, and 
one blanket. This was the standini>: order of this Northern 
bastile, and to enforce it the most arbitrary and cruel means 
were adopted and I'igidij^ enfoi'ced. It made no matter 
how our men sup|)lied themsehes with extra clothing, none . 
were given them by their keepers ; at all events, it was ali,>f 
the same and was taken from them. Oftentimes kind 
friends in Baltimore would sen ! large suj>j)lies to us, and 
there were some of us who had relatives in the North who 
would suj)])l3' all we needed had they beeti permitte<l. Many 
a poor, suffering and wretched Confederate there was made 
happy and to rejoice by the noble and generous people of 
Baltimore, who, unasked, sent to them clothing, money and 


supplies when such gifts were precious bejoncl price ; and 
never will we and many more forget what the la lies of 
this city so magnanimousl}^ contributed to the prisoners of 
tlie South. These generous people gave to all wh(un they 
knew and to all who applied, and in ad<lition their general 
givings amounted to thousands m >re. They never tired in 
giving, and never sent a refusal. Many a suffering prisoner 
now living owe their lives to the kindness of the people of 
Baltimore. Honor, honor to them, for a nobler, more o-en- 
erous and liberal people do not live than they of the city of 
])altimore; and their deeds will be remembered bj th )se 
whom they so liberally and willingly befriended even when 
the harsh and cruel treatment of the keepers at Fort Dela- 
wai'e shall have been forgotten. But we were not permitted 
to keep what was given us, and the way in which they re- 
lieved us of all save what we had on our pei'sons and one 
blanket we will now describe: General Schoepf was the 
commandant, there being about 250 (or more })erhaps) of 
ninety days men who acted as our guards. Amono- these 
wei-e half a score of the worst and most desperate, who 
were dubbed sergeants, and had general and special charge 
over the prisoners and tlie personal enforcement of all or- 
ders, rules and regidations. JSevei-al of these were the 
worst, the most cruel and vindictive men we ever knew ; 
they did all the dirty work, for which they evinced a pecu- 
liar taste and liking, and carried a thick, heavy dub which 
they used at will upon any, sick or well, innocent or not, 
just as they chose, without fear, restriction or responsibility 
to their sni)eriors. One of these pris')n autocrats was 
quaintly named ''Ilack-out," and for hacking he had no sn- 
pej'ior. Two weeks aftei* our arrival, this man (Hack-out) 
came blustering into the pen, ordering us to 'diack-out," the 
meaning of which our predecessors told us was to gather 
together all oui* possessions clothing, blankets and all tdse 
])i'ej)ai'atory to being marched out on the parade ground, 
the'e to be searched, one by one, by our clever entertainers. 
The 10,000 men were drawn up in a close, compact square, 


and orck'rs given to open knapsacks and bundles, and to 
place each man's goods in a line to be teart-bed. Tben tbe 
searcbing began, eacb ]»riPoner iiist being examined as to 
ulictber be bad (ai double sbirts, coats, })ants, and even 
down to pocks. Any of tbese articles or otber apparel found 
eitber in tbe knaj'sacks or on tlie person were taken from 
lis — money, watcbes and even rings going tbe same way. 
Tbey only left us one blanket eacb and tbe clotbing^ on our 
persons. All else was taken, and wben after lialf a day's 
standing, all jiacked togetber, nnder a broiling sun, we were 
mai'cbed back to our bai-iacks, tbere was a i)ile of captuied 
goods of all sorts and kinds fifty yards long and four feet 
biob — enough, as was said by our men. to load asteaml)oat. 
We never saw any of tbese tbings again ; but as one of tbe 
officials on tbe island bad a second-hand clotbing strre, as 
was said, in Pbiladelpbia, their destination can readily be 
imagined. This operation was ]"epeated four times wb 1st 
we were tbere for clothing, &c., with similar results in one 
of wliicb 'Ae lost a new suit of clotbing sent us worth $20, 
five dollars in greenhacks, tbi-ee sbirts and two blankets. 
Mv companions fared tbe same way, and unless you could 
bide what you bad beyond their prying eyes, you were sure 
to lose it. Once ibey backed us out to searcb for pocket- 
knives and otber deadly weap( ns, and after tbe searcb tbey 
bad a good large wheel barrow full of knives of all kinds, 
sizes and makes. The excuse f'-r this honorable action was 
given in tbe fact that (general Jeff. Thompson, one of tbe 
prisoners, bad in a moment of imprudence said that if all 
tbe men bad knives and be could get sufficient notice to them 
of tbe movement, be could take tbe Foi-t, capture every last 
Yankee on tbe island, seize a steamboat or two, and carry 
off every prisoner safely to tbe South. Whether General 
Thompst n ever did say tliis or anything like it, we do not 
know; but ceitaiu it was tbey said so, and true or untrue, 
tbev acied on tbe sn])posed tbreat, leal or imaginary, and 
took our knives from us and ap{)ioj)riated them to tlieni- 
selves. Perhaps some otber of their officials bad a second- 


band cutlery store in Pliiladelphia. Tlieseare simple facts, 
and t)iey speak for themselves. 

I saw men knocked down senseless by "riack-out" and 
other irnards tliere for no offence and without excuse. I 
saw men carried out from the i)arra(tks dead who suffered 
into their death without help and without the knowledice of 
our captoj-s. Our rations were mean, small and most eco- 
nomi(;ally distributed — three crackers, the size of our soda 
oaekers, and two ounces of salt pork for breakfast; a cup 
of water in whicli the meat was l>oiled and some beans 
thrown in and asliee of l)read for dinner, and su])])er (when 
we had it) like breakfast. We had a cup of coffee in the 
morninir, hut a day's eating would not satisfy for an ordi- 
nary meal, mean as it was. Blaine may speak as he will, 
but let him go to the prisoners at Fort Delaware and other 
prisons, if bo really wishes to know the truth, and if the 
truth will convince him a!id he is an honest s eker after it, 
be will no longer traduce the South for its treatment of 
prisoners unless he pay equal and similar tribute to the 
kind, manner and degree of tliat treatment Southern pri- 
soners received at the hands of their Noi-thern ca|)toi's. 
Thei'c are tlios ■ liviug who went under this ro ! and through 
this mill who know the truth, and if any really wish to 
know it, from them it can be learned. But of this enough, 
and we would have left even this unsaid, had it not l)eeu 
for reading the unfair and ill-timed attack of Blaine ; and 
if he, the leader, the aspirant for our highest office, speak- 
ing to the world from his great and honoi-able place in Con- 
gress, would permit himself to be drawn into so iin])rudent, 
n: fair and vindictive course ao:ainst the South and its re- 
cord of the past, surely it will oe [)ardoned in me, an hum- 
ble, yet sincere, one of those whom he so publicly and un- 
blushingly traduced fi-om his higli place, if I have been led 
into the recalHng of what had better lie left to die a death 
of unrevived rememl)i-ance for the good of all, and by say- 
ing the truth to enter my humble denial to his or any at- 
tempt of a similar character. 


Neither side has any thing to boast of in their treatment 
of prisoners; l)oth have much to regret as ^vell to rej^ent, 
but the Soiitli did 7i(>t inaugurate the cruel treatment after- 
wards })i"actised by both, and of this we put onrselves npon 
the great record of truth, some part of whic-li we eau tes- 
tify to ourselves. We hope in the Sjjirit of lionest desiie tO' 
reconstrn(;t a new and glorious Republic or. the dead mem- 
ories of the cruel and unhappy past — cruel on both sides,, 
and unhappy too — that we have had the last instance of a. 
great leader in high places, forgetting the duties of the; 
pi'esent and regardlcvSS of the great future of our couutrj',, 
unearthing these things of the past either for his own mor- 
bid taste and theincalculat»le injury and harm of all. Tinit ;,, 
the sim]>le truth, Mr. Blaine, is against you, and attempts 
like yours, though supported l>y facts, should and will be 
decried by all who honestly wish the good of our great 
country and its people. 

If our expei'ience of the war has taught us no other or 
better lesson, it has left the fact true tiiat the way to the 
hearts and votes of the great people of America lies iu>t in 
the api'Cal to passion, nor in the suppression of the truth, 
but in the honest candid and houorable effort to advance 
their interests as iiidividuals and their pr"Speiitv and ii»teg- 
rity as a nation. The heart of our ])eople still beats je- 
sponsive to the ])rinciples which gave it birth, and a letuin 
to its foj-mer and purer life will yet mark and distinguish 
tlie great and happy future which lies ahead, after all the 
past is dead and buried, and none so cruel and none so evil 
to be found among us, high or low, as to pla}^ the parts of 
body-snatcli(u-s. Aiay that day soon c me ! 

The great moral levers of unity and mutual concession 
in the masses will secure this succes- by inuate power; its 
Avithdiawal the prestige of defeat. We liope now that since 
the woist has passed aud we can I'ccall the horrors and suf- 
feriigs of both |>arties, committed in blind rage of ])a^sion, 
revenge and unthinking pai tizanship. that theie ai'e l)Ut iew 
who wish to do other than build up a still greater, wiser and 


a happier nation, robbed of all disunion of feeling and im- 
])ned wirli the honest and benevolent desire of a united, 
free and trb)rionsly independ(!nt people. We are but now 
one hundred years old, and what can we not achieve by our 
next CenteiHiial ? Judging by our past, the best aiignrv for 
the future, one hiuidied yeai-s hence, our vast expanse of 
territory, now sparsely settled, and miles and miles of it un- 
broken by the hand of man and scarcely familiar with his 
migrating presence, will then l)e teeming with all the bus- 
tle of active, nervolis life, and alive with all the throbs and 
impulses of commercial and agricultural industry. All this 
lies in the power of an united, contented and peaceful peo- 
ple like ours. The energy we have ; and no demand can 
be made upon ourifidustry that will not be fully met. 

The one thinsj onlvto lie made doubly sure is the oblivion 
of the few past years and renewed pledges of unity for the 

We want nf» party animosities, no sectarian rocks of of- 
fence, no stumbling blocks set irp by malice or hatred, and 
no aim f(U' country nor self, save to be a good, patriotic and 
honest mem her of a prosperous and (rod-fearing nation. We 
can leave no better legacy to those who will witness all these 
tliiugs at our next Centennial than a bequest to keep shut 
the Pandora box, the opening of whirh by a few of onr sel- 
fish, imprudent and unwise leaders, scattered its seeds of 
horrors and ills that grew, flonri^ihed and ripened into a full 
and bountiful harvest of (yivil War. ila[)pily that harvest 
has been gathered ; the proper disposition of it will leave 
not a single germ from wdiicli any future grow^th will spring. 
That harvest w^as all tai'es ! and a good husbandman will 
not fail in the (consigning of them to the flames. 

One word more and we leave this subject. When there 
were so many and ju>t causes for complaint on account of 
tlie treatment of prisoners, it is worse than useless to en- 
quire on which side t!ie gi'eater blame lies. Such enquiries 
are now too late and provocative only of incalculable harm 
to the cause of a quick reconciliation of feeling and con- 


cerf of action. Crimiriationsand recriminations are only to 
te ir-fliilircd in h\ the lukewarm and less interested of onr 
people, and tlieir efforts are calculated to injuries which all 
gord citizens wish to avert. 

The interestino- occasion at Bnnker TIill,on its last anni- 
versary, when repi-esentativesof the South and of the peo- 
ple of Massachusetts met to do honor to the memory of the 
fi-lorions days when hoth foua^ht side hy side acrainst foreicrn 
oppressi n, did a l^etter w<^rk in the proper direction than 
dozens of ill timed and ill-natui'ed speeches in Con^rress or 
elsewhere. And it is to he re 'retted that opportunities of 
such fi'iendly associations are not more frequently indnlged 

In this great work, practical reunions of the people are 
the levers to lurn and m(»uld pi-ejudices and affections, and 
we vontuie a hetter work was doiie in June last at Bunker 
Hill than can he effected hy less practical means. The 
coming together of the people from the two extremes of 
the country, and the hecoming acquainted with each other 
by actual interchano-e of views, will do this work more effec- 
tually than other means less practical. 


From the 12th day of May, from the opening of the cam- 
paign, the same object was held, and the same means of 
reaching Ric^hmond — that by the preponderance of num- 
bers by the left flank. 

We will not follow the moyements of the two armies, by 
which eacli General tried to gain some advantage over his 
opponent: the one to prevent the great sacrifice of life to our 
own tn,)opp. 

General Lee steadily bronght his men np to meet every 
move of (irant, and whenever tfie one made an attack, theie 
was the other to be f<»und ready for the foray. iS'o nn- 
guarded flank was left to be turned ; no unprotected centre 
presented itself to Grant. 


Strategy was of no avail as against General Lee, and 
Gratit'saimy was too large and nnwieldly f(»i" any success- 
ful diverson ; it was n thing but tight, tight hard every day. 
Grant had nndertaken an ol)iect that necepsitalcd gicat 
slaughter of his men — assured iiis losses would be at once 
made good to him Acting on the defensive, save when 
sane opportunity offered itself to the ever-watchful Lee to 
change this policy, our men were carefully husbanded and 
protected as much as possible. lie was thus, by his supe- 
rior skill, enal)led to save his men fiom unnecessary danger, 
and to which our enemy was daily exposed. Protected, as 
well as our limited condition would admit, by rude trenches 
and woilvs, we awaited the attacks daily made when the 
enemy would be coiiipelled to leave the shelter of their own 
works when advancing on ours. These attacks were terri- 
ble in the almost resistless force of numbers and the 
slaughter of the attackers. But we met and repulsed these 
charges. It was, in truth, nothing but a continued ham 
mering on our small numbers — the continued dropping that 
was to wear away the rock. 

It was the hurling of a large against an inferior army — 
the principle of attrition, llisrtoi-y does not furnish a paral- 
lel instance of two such armies, so unequally matched as to 
numbers and appliances of war, where the resistance on the 
part of the lesser rendered all the ad\ antages of the gieater 
unavailing during such a protracted and bloody siege. But 
the end was approaching, and our system of resistance 
gi'adually, yet surely, wearing away. The great sufferings 
at home wei'e beginning to be gi'eater than could be longer 
uoriie. To seal their devotion to the cause with theii- lives 
would but now add to the bloody hecatomb of their dead 
comrades, whilst it could not strke out a single link from 
the aua(!()nda chain that was so surely closing around that 
small and heroic band in the tield. The whole South was 
beginning to yield under the fearful surroundings. Want 
and sufferiuiis were doinir what heroic men had so loni>; 
resisted. The end was not far off — brought on by absolute 


etarvation. The len<rth of tlie strno-fyle had done this: for 
wliat incn can thj:\\t when the lust letter from lioine told the 
fearful tale of his little familv a\vav off in his once happy 
home, now starvino^ for food ard beirging the unhaj)i)v man 
by his hopes of seeing thorn again, to hiiriT to their relief 
and succor. Could he read this fearful appeal, and still 
tight with his wonted enthusiasm? But it was done, and 
nianj a gallant Southron fought on, his heart tilled with 
thouohts that a country should take care should not divert 
and harrow the minds of her soldiers whilst tightinsr its 
battles. It is a proper censui'e on tliese men, for their final 
defeat to come the cynic, but real living and feeling men — 
men of true heai'ts, rather than utter against tliem one word 
of reproach, with one unanimity of sentiment, declare them 
to be doubly honored in their distinguished record ; that the 
fact tliey felt for iheii" homes and little ones, whilst it was a 
reproach to those who did not when they could, avert the 
deplorable suffering, detracted not from the irreproacliable 
record of the Oonfedei-ate soldiers. Failure was not of their 
making, but those are not blameless, who, by their furious 
demands for precipitate war, when the demand for tiieir 
services came, ingh)riously refused to respond to the call, 
and either sought tlio safety of bomb pr )ofs, or stayed at 
home in equal security. And not oidy were their eff >rts to 
help their country indifferent and negative, but when the 
irreat crisis was come, they were the verv Hrst men who 
spread a spirit of discontent by trading in tlie wants and 
sufferings of tiieir country. Tliere are ti'aitors beside the 
unfortunate soldier who left the army to the relief of a suf- 
fering family ; anil their very tongues ought to be speechless 
to a word of re!)nke or reproa(^h. We cannot propeidv esti- 
mate these self convicted retra-^tors of ps-inciple and rene- 
gades to their faith. They have the bitter result of the 
want of honesty an.d their own i-eproach is severe enough ; 
and, nevei- again, should the [)eople consent to their assum- 
ing any positions of leadei'ship. They made most ind lifer- 
ent lighters, and b) no parity of reasoning can we assume 


their fitness for the places they held when their voice was 
str -nij^ for war, and who did acrually l)rini^ it about. 

The most alarniino; feature, ann one that should be feared, 
is, that these persons aspire to places of trust, are seekers of 
othce and applicants for positions of ])opular leadership. 
True to tlieir want of practical exeniplilication of their 
popuhu" expressioiis of political views, they are only con- 
sistent in their inconsiste-ncy, and being found sadly want- 
ing, when one single person would have been a help in our 
ranks, if not now willing to act in suboidinate places, the 
])eople should see to it that they be not honoied with office 
when they sought such low and invisible p((sitions durino- the 
war. These are the restless spiiits wlio wi-.V .to rule in times 
of peace, but when the dangers of the'war are come, are 
quite well satished in renuiining where there are no rulers, 
or none to be rided, and the greater the distance from the 
eye of the public the better. Unwilling, even now, to act 
the part (»f men who yielded and surrendered, they are 
happy to keep alive what are nevei* so well cared for as 
when buried beyond the reach of th(>se body-snatchers and 
resurrectionij^ts. The time for their Icadersiiip ought to be 
pa^t—that is, the hcalthiist state of our Union 'in which 
the people rule. The war, ir a great measure, broke up 
this aut<.cracy of party managers. Their fervor at the 
start, and their sad deli»)quency"afrerward, attr.icted atten- 
tion, and this should not now be forgotten. Few of tlram 
accompanit'd the men to camp, and still fewer stood out at 
the front till the end. The loss of their old intluence in 
camp was the result of their abseiice, and the s Idiers, for 
the tii-st time, relieved fiom this influence and their ]jresence, 
b; gan to iojin oj)ini(>ns of their own and to contract hal)its 
of thought and of self-ieliunce which should not now be 

'ihis war. among other of its lessons, proved that other 
men besides the^e who ruled at home, were capalde of good 
and wi^e leaders of thonght and of | arty, and those who 
previously arrogated such responsibility iii peace, radically 

failed to be in their places^ at the front — that there were in 
our ranks and lile?, Btatesmi'n as well as fighters, and many 
who were more worthy of places of honor, trust and emolu- 
ment, tlian they who liad cheered them off to the field and 
remauied at home tiiem-^elves, the quiet readers and restless 
critics of the war news and army movements. And the 
way they would discuss these things W(uild impi-ess a 
stranger with the belief that there wei'e many a good Gen- 
eral and skillful strategist at home, whose eminent services 
the countrv was losing: — and may he a i^-reater than our L^e 
or Jackson. These must now fall back to the solace of their 
own delinquences, whilst the worthy, consistent men till 
our offices and administer our la vs. 

liepubli(rs oug?iL"n()t to be ungrateful, and they only be- 
come so under the blind rule of autocratic partizansliip aiid 
selfish nepotism. Gratitude -to merit and to worth, is the 
evidence of a return to first great principles. There were 
those, the-most intense tire-eaters, who were not only nega- 
tively inactive in the cause they did so much to develop, 
but who from fear of their persons or ]:)roj)erty, at the first 
presence of danger and of the enemy, di<i all they could to 
conciliate th )se whom they supposed were eager to arrest 
them, because from past record they were conspicuous and 
special personages to the invading enemy. This propitia- 
ti(ni was in sad keeping with what they said they would do 
under the very same circumstances, and the truth is, they 
would probably n >t have been disturbed had they not made 
themselves known to the enemy by their attempt at con- 
ciliation. How different from that other class, who only 
claimed to be good and loval men, true to their State and 
its institutions, bej'ond the age of service and exempt from 
it, yet who, in the very presence of the enemy, were as 
firmly true and brave as when quietly discussini^: the war 
and its issues. Firm and unyielding, they became no volun- 
teers to conciliate, nor the men to make overtures of peace; 
and when the oath was presented them to take or go to the 
''Old Capitol," or other Northern bastiles, they remonstrated 


a2:ainst the injustice of such persecution, but declined. 
Su'ojected to insult, arrested and marched on f()i>t away 
fnuii their homes; treated with all manner <.f spiteful 
tyranny, and even violence, they stood to their princii)les 
and refused to swear awav tlieir manlu)od by admittino; 
what their Iiearts did not sanction. Old men did this, and 
went to prison rather than submit to the moral degradation. 

They were, and are, noble spirits, and tiiis day more hon- 
ored, even by their quondam foes, and the brave of both 
sides, than they who sought peace and found it on the iii'st 
alarm. Brave men, everywhere, des[)ist.' cowardice and re- 
spect bravery; and an inconsistent man does not, and can- 
not, respect his own vei'sati ity, whilst c(jnsistency is a jewel 
to its possessor and an insignia of bravery and loyalty to 

Moral lieroism is as admirable a trait to the civilian as to 
the Soldier, whilst the want of it in either renders man 
fickle, volatile and intirm. 

One instan<e of this strong moral firmness, and there are 
many others, was the case of an old gentleman of Rappa- 
hannock, raised in the old school of V^irginia and honest 
principles. When the neighborhood, in which he lived, 
was tilled with the first Northern soldiers who had visited 
this county, he was an invalid, and on a'-count of his bad 
health, together with his great corpulence of body, unable 
to get out their way. lie was a firm, staunch, yet modest 
believer in the justice of the war on the part of the South. 
lie was visited by a si)ecial detail of the eneni}^, and was 
told he must take the oath — the iron -clad one, as it was 
then called. IJe refused mildly, thouo^h firmly. Unable to 
walk, he was placed in an ox-cart and driven to a Provost 
in the town of Woodville. So sick he was that he was 
placed on a feather bed in the cart, and it was thought he 
could not live through the severe ordeal. Arriving thei'e, he 
was advised by Milroy himself to take the oath, and he need 
no longer fear any future trouble. He refused, and said it 
was useless to say more. After being kept under a hot sun 


for some hours, ^vhilst his case was heinc^ investicrated, and 
evci'N now and then being asked, if lie was ready to take the 
oatli, to whicJi he at once replied : No, sii-! I.e was permitted 
to be driven to liis h(-nie, some miles off, with the uiider- 
Btandiiiirhe would certainly be recniired to take it the next 
morni] i^ He was not a'^ain troidjled, luit he did n<'t take 
the oath, and he died as he had lived, triie to his faith and 
pure in his piinciples, and the name of Dv. Mark Reid will 
long be remembeied by the people of Ra|)pahannoek, as one 
wlio feai-ed not, in the hour of danger, to give iitteian'ce to 
the opinions he had fonned, and though si<'k and suffering, 
and not knowing \vhat fate might be in store for hiiu, would 
not ourchase that quiet and letiieuient, he so much needed, 
at the cost of his consistency. There were other just such 
cases, and the record of the people of Uaj>pahannock, in 
this, as in all other of the features of the war, \yas one of 
which they may well be proud. 

There but died a few years since one of the best of our 
citizens, who lived and died withoutan eneuiy, and all men 
his friends; from theeff'ectsof a longcontinemeut in a North- 
ern prison. There he had been huri-ied, without atrial and 
without cause, aud there kept, though thousauds were ready 
to testify that his life was as pure aud honest as it had been 
quiet aud modest, and that never had he, even in thought, 
committed an act he would not own in presence of 
friend and foe. ile was as guiltless of \M\y alleged act of 
broken faitii or aggression as any man C(ndd be, and yet, 
without the shadow of a baseless fabric of a suspicion, he 
was made to undergo such cruelties in the Aorthern prison 
as mi^^'ht ha^•e outdone a Nero himself. And when the full 
measure of his (cruelties were complete, he returned to his 
home, the victim of disease from which he always suft'ei-ed, 
and from which he died. And yet he was an old man, 
louiT past the years of service, and innocent of any wrong 
save that of entertaining his ow^n political opinions, a true, 
brave and an eminently honest man and worthy citizen. 

Our army at last reached the lines around Petersburg, 


wliich it held till the evacuation of Ttichm^nd on the 2nd of 
April, 18H5. It was materially lessened in niunheiv, and 
all liopes cf I'eiiifDi-ccnients had long since i)een given np. 
Oiir armies in the far South were in the satne conditi ..n, 
and the issue depended on the men ah-eady in the liekL 

The l)lo(d', for a white pait.ial, had iiow^ heeome effect- 
ive. But few successful runs were made througli it, and 
the chain of armed vessels, strengthened here and there by 
the large and powerful iron-dads and monitors, guarding 
our entire long line of sea coast, was to<> great a cordon not 
to prevent the possibility of our shi|)S from getting through. 
IVlany captures were made, and our supplies from abroad 
few and irregular. Here whs a great and powerful enirine 
that aided i?\ our downfall, and had the seas been open to 
us, our condition would have been immeasural)lv bettered. 
This led to the depi'eciation of ourcun-ency and the appre- 
ciation of all articles of bai'ter and ti-ade. This was a force 
that was all the while doing greater harm to us, and one 
winch our ai-med foe failed to do <>n the field. It was the 
silent, but ever-working sapper of our supplies, the witli- 
h -Ider of our necessaries. Contrast, for a moment, the 
hundreds of vessels daily loading and unloading at the many 
p »rts in the tSouth, both inland and from almost every 
European countiy, and the days of the war when not a sin- 
gle <»ne passed in for wteks, and it will be seen what to be 
blockaded means. What a deprivation this would be in 
peace, but what in time of war! 

And, yet, all this did the South have to contend against 
for four long years of unparalleled resistance. By it we 
^ were reduced, from a condition of ailiuence and plentv. t() 
one of absolute want and poverty. jXow it wms the inju- 
dicMous course of the South, in having neglected the mann- 
factm'ing industries, was so m terially felr am! understood, 
l)ut too late to help. It is not tlien a wonder that the end 
fiiiallv came — the «>:reat 'r wonder is, that we should have 
held out for so louii- a time, and so well. 

The only affairs of interest during the long seige around 


Kiclimond the last winter of the war, were the dail}^ en- 
gau^einents with varied results, our army ccnitinniiiii' to hold 
its original h'nes al)out tliiity miles long. At points so at- 
tenuated was this line that the men holding it were at dis- 
tances as much as six and eight feet apart, resembling a line 
of light skil•mi^hers. This thin array of men was unsnp- 
poi'ted hy any reser^es or other forces, and it seems inci'ed 
ible that so sftiall a force, less now than forty thousand 
men, was not literallv run oxer and crushed by the tremen- 
dons numbers of Grant. Yet they held their own when 
thev were sufferinjj: for food and sufficient clothinoj. Cold 
corn bread, badlv baked from indifferent arrain in cakes two 
feet broad and twice a>^ long, constituted the pi'incipal bill 
of fare. Plenty of this was not always to be had, mean 
and unsavory as it vvas. It could not be clean^ from the 
ver}' niannei" of its preparation and distribution. Baked in 
one of the two cities of Richmond or Petersburg b}' details 
of soldiers, it was thrown in wagons or in cars by men 
whose appearance indicated a total indifference to good, 
clean water; it w^as then conveyed, after reaching the 
trenches, in other vehicles ecjually in keeping with its other 
means of transportation to the different companies. By 
the time it reached the half clothed and huui^ry men in the 
trenches, it can be i-eadily seen it wa^ in a prime condition 
foi- appetites if its handling could be oveilooked. 

The daik-colored cakes or slabs resembled nothinoc we can 
think of better than some species of clay-colored tiag-stones 
we have seen, and as to its edible qualities it is beyond 
con)parisi 11, and was only like itself. Still it preserved life, 
and that was the full extent of our supplies during this last 
winter ; and cold, dirty com bread, made of musty, unsifted 
meal was better than n(»thing. 

The clothing resources wa^ on a par with the eating, and 
the eleven Va n federate dollars received monthly by the 
men would not add one single day's food at any hotel or 
public house, even when the opportunity to buy it offered. 
Meals at city hotels at this time were twenty dollars each, 


and a day's boarding and lodgini]: was to be bad at tbe Spots- 
wood or Excliaiige for the indifferent sum of $t)0. 

At tins I'ate a rnontli's pay would ii<»t buy one square 
meal such as the doomed eity offered. Fancn' tbe iix, then, 
of a Ridxd who undertook to pay his board out of his |»ay ! 
lie could manaixe l)V clever boardinij; iov two or three 
months to save enough to enjoy the delights of the capital 
for one day with an occasional luxury of a drink or two at 
$2.50 apiece of most villainous stuff named wh'skey. Flour 
was sold at $1,200 per barrel, and a pair of shad brought 
$250. Such fabul >us ])r ces only show the ut;er worthless- 
ness of the currency, and yet the city peoj)le managed to pay 
them and that without grumbling. It was a favorite saying 
tliat when one started to market it required a hami)er bas- 
ket in which to carry the ''(Jonfeds," whilst the purcha-es 
could comfortably be returned in two or three fair-oized 
over-cnat pockets. 

Sncb was the condition of things on that eventful Sab^ 
bath morning, when Mr. Davis was interrupted in his reli- 
gious devotions at St. PauTs church, l)y a hurried message 
from General Lee, wiitten from tiie front, that he was no 
longer able to hold our lines ai'ound Petersburg, and that 
Richmond must at once be abandoned to the mercj of a 
now victorious army. That April moniing will never be 
foro^otten ! 

The time had at last come, and a weeping congregation 
quietly left that church to prepare for the last sad drama of 
the long tvar. Never was confusion worse confounded 
when the news got abroad in the doomed city. A mad, 
uncontrolled and terrified rnob completed the scene of woe 
and destruction by the communication of the flames from 
the public to the private pi'operty, so that when the now 
jubilant and victorious captors marc^hed into the city, so 
long their successful resistor, they were greeted by a burn- 
ing and iiamiiig prize. Such was the genei-al and pervading 
spii'it of the uncontrolled mob who had all things their o\\'n 
way, that for a while it was thought impossible to save any- 


tiling from the clevonriiio: flames to mark the ?pot where once 
stood the proud and detianr centre of the ( 'onfedei'acv. But 
6nch are the effects of war. and where we tind war, tliere 
we mav with certainty look to ^ee snch ret^ults. Tiie two ai-e 
close and alhed friends — the beginning and the endingof all 
res Mts to the sword. 

On that niii'ht our men noiselessly and mechanically filed 
alono" the trendies they so lono^ defended, as vet iii^norant of 
the extent of the mo\e they were making — the sjiherical 
shells flying over their heads and whizzing l)y spent tliem 
selves among the trees behind the woi'ks, whilst the bi'ight 
meteor-like mortar shells darted high np oxer their heads, 
when suddenly stopping their flight for a second fell to the 
ffronnd with a liissni<j; noise and buried themselves yai'ds 
deep in the soft earth, or else exploded bcfoi'e reaching it. 
These were the famous mortar shells, by far the most teri'i- 
fyino: and demoralizina'of all the nnssiles of war. Atnight 
they 'ould l)e se^n fi-om the moment they left the mouth of 
the mortar all through their eccentric flight. At night the}^ 
may be avoided, but during the day when not visible, save 
at interxals, they are a desti'ucti\e missile. They ai-e only 
shot at shoit ranges, and aie scld()m used cx( ept on b« aid 
shi)> or duiinga seige. At Petersbnig l»(.th sides had their 
full shaie of them, hundreds being placed along both lines. 
The mortal's ai'e a simple contiivMiice and admit of no im- 
pro\ement, and aie scarcely more than four feet or less long 
with a diameter from twenty to forty inches, and resemble 
somewhat a common drug mortar, and hence their name. 
The bore is deep enough to admit of the introduction of tl e 
charge of powder and about three-fourths of the shell itself, 
it l)eing laid loosely on top of the powder. The mortar is 
hungn])on its sides in a fiame and isiasily mo\ed .-o as to 
chaniie the decree of elevation. Thev aie not used at arcat- 
er dh<tances than a mile or little more, and ne\er at ])oint 
blank lange. 'i hey are iired at an aim.' st ] erpcndieular po 
sition. bo that the shdl dcscril:es in itsfliLd t an elliptic curve, 
eccentric in its Itrm, going one-half of ilie whole distance 


of its flioflit when it reaches ifs greafesf, elevation, from 
which point it begins to descend at tlie satrie an<j-le at which 
it attained its hii>liest iiiglit,acce]eratino^ itssjjetd hs it ncai's 
tlie eai'th, so tliat thoiiti'h niovino^ slnwly when it heii;ins its 
dip, it falls upon the ground witli a terrific crasli at a tre 
niendous speed. There cai! be no nioie beautiful or suiditne 
sight than that presented by tliesc shells as the}' desci'ibe 
tlieir eccentric flights through the aii*; and when the two 
lines were firing at the same time the passing and repassing 
of them in mid air was something grand beyond descj-ip- 
ti<»n. Thev seemed as thouirh they were l)alls of tii-e hurled 
by some irate of the God- of Fire, or that these Gods were 
indulging in some warlike contest introduced for the amuse- 
ment of mortals. But it was a sp(U't that migiit be dearly 
indulged, for those flaming sphere^ of red-hot iron, rolling 
tlieir heavy shapes through the upper air, were terrible eii^- 
ginesof death and destruction. Strange to say, however, 
their damage to life and pi'operty was not nearly so gi-eat as 
might have been exj)ected. 

As science adds more destructive weapons of warfare, so 
too does Science, or the instinct of preservation rather, in 
vent better and safer means of defense and protection. The 
rule seems to be one that follows in the wake of progress 
and improvement, else the lo^s to life would be a sacriiice 
too terrible to contemplate. In fact, not nearly so many arc 
now slain in battle among civilized and enlightened nations, 
where -aW the skill and ads of improved arms and appli- 
ances are in use, as are killed in the contests betw^een some 
^ tril)os of Indians and savages, vyho, destitute of minnie 
i rifles, rifled cannon and eedle gims, fight hand to hand, 
armed oidv with the rude and clumsy weapons only effective 
in close cpiarters. So that when mortars wei'e bro'i!i:lit to 
bear u[)on our lines around Ri(;hmond, we wei-e not Img in 
fln ling that goo 1 s.)ii:)d logs, covered with plenty of earth, 
constituted a safe an<l reliable protection. Excavations, 
like ice houses, were «big seven or more feet deep, <»ver which 
these logs were flrst placed and oyer them eight or ten feet 


of earth, and these became pooti known by the fit, appro- 
p'iate and snfi^ocefttive natne of " B<nnh- Proof'' — names tliat 
Were aptly iri^en to all i^'tft positions and |)laces as thoRe of 
clerkships and so on. The watchino^ of these mortars. lar<^e 
a^ camp-kettles, by the soldiers was an interestinsf occnpa- 
tion so loiijjj as the firing was not rapid ; but. when so, there 
was dan2:er of being caiijor-ht by one whilst watching the 
others. After gaining the highest position they coidd easily 
calculate the |>oint at which it woidd strike, and if that 
point were close by, the soldiers would dart down through 
the narrow o])ening to the vault of the bomb proof below, 
and from their sul>terranean protection await the terrible 
fall and exjdosion that followed, as safe as thongh they 
were gronnd hogs ensconsed in their holes from the |)ursiiit 
of hnuter and d' ffs. ()ccasi"nallv two of these fierv mon- 
stcrsas they piustied their opposite flights wonld meet. In oh. 
np in the heavens, when thousands of bright, streaming 
lines of fiery red would dart away from the crash that fol- 

Thus suddenly arrested by meeting in their headlong 
flight, the bright flashes of fire would for a moment radiate 
out from the place of (•onta<-t, and then the two masses of 
iron, spent of their initial force would fall perpendicularly 
with a heavy thud into the neutral c^round between ihe two 
lines, and their errand of death be a brief and abortive one. 
The mortar duels were sometimes continued throughout 
the night, particidarly if any move was al)ont making, in 
order to (baw away attention from it. At such times the 
mon wisely kept themselves deop down in the ground, and 
did not venture forth into the up})er air till these mortars 
quit firing. It is astonishing what a hole one of these 
thii'ty-six poundei's makes in the gronnd, and sometimes 
even the l)est of the bomb-proofs did not prove secure 
against them. We have seen a hole into which a horse 
and cart could easily be put, and then room to spare for the 
driver, and the air fill d with a thick shower of dirt and 
stones fur rods around. Our last small remnant of an army 


wonnd their qiiief, mechanical way out from the peene? of 

their wiiiter'^i sufferiiiir?, and tJKMi heuan that nine days' 

mai-ch, wldcli was to he the end of all the triaU of those 

f(>n)' long vears of war. The heirinninij: of the end had now 

commenced — Petersburg at one end and iVppomattox at 

the other. 

The agony of those nine days was not even to he spared 

those sacrificing heroes. The full measure of their snffer- 

ings was not yet complete. But it would he when they 

had reached the fatal field of Aji])omattox. They could lay 

down their well-tried arms and rest their achino- hearts. 

Soon thei-e would he no lonirer need of thenu their work was 

done, and tliev could i-eturn <^o their homes, where stai'vino* 

little ones had long been waiting their coming, hut waiting 

in vain. They need not fear in responding to the cry for 

help from home: the war was e>ver, and no longer a dread 

military law would brand with disgrace those wh'i dared its 

venfyeance. All this was past, and vet that whi(*h was to 
^ I • 

come was more ]irefeiablc ? Of all the dread and dii-eful 
marches throuiih wl-ich these veterans were to pass, this 
last one was the worst, and it was reserved to the closing 
one of nine days to he the severest of them all. It could 
liave been w(»rse, but hai-dly so, and hard, hard indeed, the 
condition of those whose fate was worse and sufferings 
greater. The line of marcli, for the most pair, thi-ougli 
the fields wherever the best progiess could be made, was 
marked from its beginning to its close with abandoned and 
desened wagons, tents and parts and pieces of the general* 
impedimentary a))])liances of war. The poor, broken down 
lioi'ses, scarcely able to drag their shadowy frames along^ 
weie huriiedly cut away from the teams, to which they 
were but impediments, and left along the way to (-are for 
themselves in that sti'ippcd and i-'-liiied country. Tlu-ie 
were no provisions to take ahwig when the reti'cat began, 
and tlh)se which ought to have met ihem on the maich 
failed to reach them. The ]K)or ho])e, which at times 
revived the poor, weary men, as they dragged their heavy 


footsfops, weiglited with the red, stiff clay of that conntry, 
sank in rluni wlit-ii, reaeliino; the point of snpjjly, f-amd no 
provisions tliei'e. Unman forl)earan(;e couhl not stand this 
and yet play the soldier hero as Lee's veteians liad done on 
so nianv a hard fonjiht and dearlv-won field of i!lory. There 

was not one hoj) «ne hist lin<j;ering h-pe left them. Tiie 

his few of so great an army were wending their strnggling 
way on to the burial of all upon the fatal lields of Appo- 

And wlmt a scene was that last of all the exploits of that 
Sfreat and good armv! A few worn out and battle-scarred 
of that once proud and defiant l)aiid met around to yield up 
tlie arms they had borne so loyally and so well. The battle 
cry, the deiiant war-whoop, the shout of victory were now 
over and no longer to be heard in the land. The hammer 
had at last done its work. The last drop had worn through 
the hard rock, and Lee and his little band had yielded to 
the power of numbers what equality could never have 
gained. Numbers, and naught else but numbers, had con 
quered. That little band of a few thousand, strangers so 
long to rest and comfoi-t, but well acquainted with suffer- 
ing, vyere now to be the sponsors for all their dead and 
absent comrades. They were to S|>eak the word that pro- 
claimed themselves the living piisoners, and the dead use- 
less sacrifices in a cause that was lost. Their duty was a 
doubly solemn — a doubly painful one; and when the last 
Word passed from lij) to lip, and from man to man, down 
that little line of Oonfedei'ates, tiie sad, the hated news left 
eacth i)ne of those battle-scarred and buntjed veterans a 
tearful and miserable man. Tears filled eyes un moistened 
f )r years, perhaps not sinee the sunu}^ hcnirs when tales of 
just such scenes as the one they were now acting, had won 
their pity, and their youthful hearts had melted at the 
recital of t!ie wronjj-s and sufferin<2:s of others. 

And there stood the noble ami fearle>s Lee, great in tlie 
hour ot victory, now m oi-e than enno!)led in the sublime 
character of the man in the hour of defeat, lie, too, no 


longer the chief of a trininphant arm^^ was now tlie quiet 
companion and ijitei'ceding friend of his ii^alhiiit ai d well- 
tried men. And he, too, the crreat. thegaliaiit xolmiteer of 
a desperate charge in the hmw of need and grent demand ; 
tlie hcloverl Lee of Virginia, was weeping in tliis, the hour 
of (air defeat. A Lee in teai's ! Ah! no one knows the 
agony of tliat scene; and the deep, nnknown miserv of Lee 
and his little army. Who can know the thonghts. the 
bitter, hni'ning thonghts born of that despei'ate hour ? Who 
can tell of all tlie hopes that harl burned so briglitly in the 
hearts of those men, that were then Imiied forever on that 
fatal lield, on the memorable 9th of May.? lint we close 
the irloomy pictnre. 

RcHections of the past ai-e not useful, save as lessons of 
prolitable experience for the future ; and may we not hope 
the one so deaily learned of that unha};})y struggle, have 
sunk deep into the minds, that whilst they cannot foiget, 
will not fail to improve ami make them useful. '1 he gicat 
moral of that struggle was readied through the bhx d of 
thousands to wlioir the cause for which thev fnuii-lit was 
very dear; and yet to us the siirvi\ois, and by far the 
greater sufferers, is left the legacy of l)uilding upon the 
I'uins of that exjjei'ience a useful fabi'ic of a sound and 
equal liberty, and a pi(>tecting and protected goveiiiment. 
Deai'ly bought as they are, the ]»ast can oidy be atoned for 
by a patriotic detei'inination to laise no cau^e ('f sectional 
strife nor bitter difierences, to outlive good designs for the 


And now we come to that part of mv book which ouirht 
to Inne tjik' n the j)1ace of much that has already been said, 
l>ut I j)lead the natuial excuse of a memory that will dwell 
on the scenes of the i)ast, and especially on those of the 
war. Tlicti. too, I ha\e not the piesumj)tion to beb'<-\e the 
jecital of my qinet and oidinary life, one, and an hnnd)le 
one, of that large number of Southern soldiers, could ofter 


the same matters of interest as the events with wliich I was 
connected as one who fouij-ht thron<>:]i the war. 

How a " One Lego^eil Rel)el Lives," if confined to the 
incidents of my own life, woiihl prove a very dull and 
hardly readahlu hook — that of s ano m')re important and 
distinu'iiished |)ersona<j!:e would till the measure of interest; 
but, unha|)i)ily, I never I'ose to be a ^reueral, but I hope I 
was not a bad soldier in the humble role of a high private 
in tlie I'ear rank. The vvanderino- awav, therefore, from 
my own life and from the title of my book has been inten- 
tional, and, in doing so, 1 hope it has l)een for tlie benetit 
of mv readers. . Not. however, to fail altoo-ether to make 
some application to my title, I shall now gi\e somewhat of 
my private life and my struggles with tliis w<»rld and its 
people, as a one legged man, since this ci-uel war is over. 
In tills I sliall be as brief as possible, and only give the 
more salieiit points of what has been a not eventfid life. 
The part of mvself which has left me and long since gone 
back into its oiiginal dust — I mean the other leg which I 
have not gor — continued to be the cause of great pain and 
suffering, even as it had, towai-d the close of the war, pre- 
vented me from doing the same sei-vi(;e as I did before it 
was struck, and, on my retui-n home, got worse and worse, 
until my condition was nnsup];)ortable. 'J1ie pain was too 
severe and uni'cmitting to j)ei'mit me any constant occui)a- 
tion,even though my [)hysical condition would have allowed 
it outside of the pain J'he most -f my own, as well as a 
good part of the time of others, was occupied in seeing 
after and attending to my wounded aid^le. Employment 
of any kind was simi)lv out of the question. 

The best medical advice was unanimous that the skill of 
the surgeon, aided by his knife, must be finally resoi'ted to, 
and the sooner the oifending membei' was oif, the better, 
both to save great suffering and the sympathetic action 
that might affect my general health — that it was better 
'''' off t/nui r;// ; " and that though it miglit not result in 
direct injury to my health to keep it, still, at best, it would 


prove but a pad aid to my locomotion, and after years of 
dj-afifirinir it alonir witli nie, it would, in all i)i-ol)al)ility, liave 
to I e (tut oft, Mud that then my c(;ndition wuuid not, per- 
liaps, be in as favoi-ahle plight for the operation — and all 
things consideied. ir oi.'iiht to be amputated. 

1 did n-ot fancty this juncture of my affairs at all, for 
though by no means a \ain niaii, nor unusually proud of 
my peisonal beauty, 1 had, nevertheless, a strc»ng liking for 
mvself and every part of myself, and looked upon this 
attempt of ridding me of one of my well-tried pioj ellers, 
as a diiect attack on the beautiful contour — on the peifect 
outline of mv tout e7hsr?rtUe—a\\d onlv i2:ained mv own C' n- 
sent to this cutting ordeal alter a long and thorough inves- 
tigation into the )-isks, benefits and future expectations, it 
was a blow at my pride, in fact, a cut at me I could illy 
brook: for though not the prettiest, noi- the best ot legs, 
yet, such as it was, it was miue, and was all I could reason- 
ably look for, and having once parted with it, it might be 
Some time bef ']"e I could procu)-e its (tounterpai't. lictiate 
and tlie doctors were lK)th against me, and the two jji-oved 
insnrmountal)le, and dire as was the alternative, it was the 
only plan which promised me a sure riddance of the painful 
and oftendiuic meiid)e!'. So it was, after reflectino^, ijlan- 
ing and scheming, all on behalf of my bullet shattered limb, 
and tindinjj: no hone. i\^)V means c-f relief, I found mvself, 
on one bi-ight day i i the spring, .and a short while after I 
had returned to my friends from the tield of the suri-ender, 
at full length sti'etched on a table in the presence of three 
or four grim discii)les of his ancient houor Mi-. ^Escula- 
piu» — supposing him to be the father of suigery as well as 
of medicine — with all their, cold, shining instruments of 
their bloody trade, spiead out in an imposing and giim 
ai'iay, foi- the special benefit and aid of 3<'ur very humble 
servMut. Talk about the pullmg of teeth ! that want noth- 
ino;. l^iih! with what nei"\<)us dread and hoi-ror did tliese 
knives, saws and all the other hoi-rid imi)lemeuts inspire 
me. That assortmeDt would have done no little credit to a 


"No. 1 bntcliers' establishment. How it made me sliiver, and 
liow tlie cold, clammy drops stood on my melancholy l)row 
and stole down my fair cheeks, as I realized all the intents 
and piij'poses of that array of tools, and how I wished there 
had been no war — or, if war, there had been no hidlets 
used — or, if bullets, no uuns to shoot them — or, if ^nns, no 
blasted Yankec^s to them — or, if Yankees, well, that 
they hadn't made ns fight them — in fact, that 1 had'ntgot 
siiot at all, or. if shot, it had only been a good furlough 
wound, and not <tne that was to make me a *'hoj.> and go fetch- 
it" cri{)i)le for the I'est of my days, with fifteen or twenty 
p«)unds "f niy own dear self down in the grave as a fore- 
runner there, since it could run no longer for me here. All 
these, and moie, were the soothing, comforting reflections 
which engaged my perturbed and terror-stricken miiul, as 1 
lay there awaiting the careful and methodical jji-epaiations 
that were l>einiJr made, all for my sole benefit. How I hated 
all those studied, deliberate preliminaries, so suggestive of 
what was coming ! Why (^ould not those methodical doctors 
go about it in an easy, otf-hand and familiar way, as if it 
were no great consecfuence after all, and not look and act 
asthoiio'li on the nai'ticularltv and nicety of their every ar- 
rangement depended the fate of nations, and not that of one 
poor ex-rebel. It is not a ])leasani fix to be in, my i-eaders, 
1 a-'Sui-e you, and I can name many much more comfoi'table. 
But the chloroform did its part of friendly relief fi'om 
pain, and in a few njinutes I awoke to find myself a one- 
leirired man. And such, mv dear readers, I lia\ e been ever 
since. TlH>uoi:h my lee: soon m)t well, yet 1 had to learn i 
again how to walk ; for to locomote on one propellei* is quite J 
and altogether a different thing froui going it on two, or a 
pair, and tlie one has to l)e learned just the spane as the 
other was in our davs of infVjicv, ])ut, l)\-and bv, I leained 
to go it aloi.e on one j)aii" — one of them of u'ood sound 
flesh, the .->tlier of o-o :)d sound hickory. It is not a vci'v fast 
way of getting over the ground, nor a very easy one either, 
but far better than not to be able to walk at all ; it is going 


it alone in more respects than one. Some of my friends 
call ine *' timber toes," but in this they are wrong, for a man 
with half an eye can see I have no toes at all on the one 
side — though on the other, quite as good as anybody's toes. 
]3nt my nature is good, and I have no objection to my friends 
amusing themselves by perpetrating jokes on my tix, pro- 
vided only they be good one=. Bad jokes, like l)ad eggs, 
tell on themselves. But, one thing is sure — I tiud this world 
a pretty hard place to flourish in when you have no money, 
and only one leg to nnake it with. My own experience has 
fully tauglit mi3 this. I have had a hand in many and 
various things, and have tried to make me a fair living. 

Bard work, I cannot do, for I have not yet found the leg 
which I could use with ease and comfoit— all of them rub- 
bing mv stump and keeping it mi^re or less sore and irri- 
tated all the time. I have had my reverses too, and after 
saving up a $1,000 at Huntington, tw^o years ago, by keep- 
. ing a boarding house on the line of tiie ('heaspeake and 
Ohio Railroad, the suspension of work by this rr»ad, and 
their inabilitj^ to pay oif their laborers, and who were my 
b(;arders, lost me this sum of money at one fell blow, and 
did not leave me a cent to begin on again, after I had paid 
off my own indebtedness. This was a severe blow to me, 
for with that money, the result of my own services, I ex- 
pected to place myself in a condition of self-supporting 
business. But reo-rets are vain. For two years I travelled 
over my own, and several of the adjoining States, as a seller 
of books. This was a very o-ood trade for me so long- as 
money was more plentiful than now, but the hard times of 
the last few \'ears put an end to this. 

Again, I kept a f'ar and dispensed the fiery liquid to the 
thirty c)nes, but this I only resorted to because 1 could do no 
better, and it was this or nothing. At Kawley Springs, in 
the county of Rockingham, I kept a bar during the season 
of 1871. 

Here one of those heavy speculative jobs seemed fair to 
turn np and make me a rich man, and lift me out of the 


dull and laborious life of a toiler for bread, bj one glorious 
turn of the wheel of fortnne. The waters of Rawley have 
considerable of a reputation for their medicinal qualities, 
and a friend of mine who was always on the lookt)Ut for a 
soft job, especially if it gave evidence of a big bonanza 
being hid away somewhere about, conceived the idea of 
having several hundred hogsheads of tne lia^vley water bot- 
tled, properly labelled, and put upon the different markets 
as the greatest tonic and curative of all the waters — a per- 
fect panacea for all the ills to which human flesh is heir; 
and this friend, wishing me to accompany him along the 
road which was to lead us both to Elysian fields of bound- 
less wealth, kindly gave me the contract to bottle the water, 
he having the necessary bottles and fixtures for the work 
furnished, and all that fell to my part of tlie big job was 
the filling or having the bottles filled. 

Sharing in the enthusiasm of my friend, and not wishing 
to have so common a record of my past life to give to an 
admiring and wondering public when I had attained the 
golden measure of our great expectations, as that of a filler 
of bottles, I piudently sublet my own ]>art of the big job, 
mentally sui-e that the few cents I would have to pay per 
bottle would be but a small drawback on the sum total of 
my revenue, and for the humane and further purpose of 
giving employment to some deserving but less luckj^ fellow 
than myself, and thus be the means of putting a good liv- 
ing into his hands and pulling him along with me. 1 knew 
that I had been poor once myself, and in those days of my 
poverty how glad I would have been for some one to put 
such a chance in u\y hands, and reflecting on my own feel- 
ings in my past days when no such golden dreams gladden- ' 
ed my heart, I felt a sweet gratification in being able to 
give a poor, but deserving son of toil, five cents per bottle 
for incasing the life-gi\ing and health-restoring waters in 
their glassy receptacles. Ah ! I know how one feels when 
he is ricli, for I had the very same and identical feelings 
myself, and come what will the satisfaction of being the 


next thing to a ricli man, that of believing one's self so, 
cannot be taken from me. 

And i know what a poor man's feelings are, and 1 can say 
havino- liad both, that all this talk about trouble and no 
peace and the misery of being rich, is all a humbug; they 
are happy — just the ha[)piest of men, for I know all about 
it myself and have been tlxere. Well, the man I employed 
went to work with a will, for the more bottles he tilled the 
more he made, and in a few days such a pile of filled bot- 
tles never before and never will again astonish the wonder- 
ing amazement of the good people of Rawle3\ 

Of course I paid my sub contractor, but so far as my part 
of the fortune is concerned, it is my honest opinion three- 
fourths of that large assortment of gaily-labelled bottles 
were actually sold for less than it had cost me to have them 
filled, and that was the time 1 could sympathize with Beast 
Butler in his " bottled-up condition" at Bermuda Hundred 
referred to by General Grant in his reports. I was actually 
and bona fide-ly bottled, not having to this time gut back 
my advances of five cents per bottle. 

It is a glorious thing to be rich, and the next best thing 
to it is to think yourself so, or that you have a bis; thing in 
hand which is bound to make you so. I know how the iron, 
copper and tin ore finders feel when they strike "ile" on their 
own land or those of their neighbors, and see huge vyorks 
already erected, out of which is to pour the pure thing it- 
self, and which will make them all fortunes and some to 
\ But bonanzas are slippery things to deal with, and it is 
to be feared I h.ave had my only good thing in this line of 
promotion and mine was to come out the least substantial 
and impalpable of all things nearly, the subtle and abund- 
ant one of water. I don't think I'll ever venture on w^ater 
again — unless in the shape of ice ! 

The most of my other business engagements were also in 
the Valley of Vii-ginia, and I will say a kinder, more hos- 
pitable and thoroughly helping people do not live under the 


sun. and never shall I forget or cease to thank the good peo- 
ple of that fertile valley foi* all the many continued acts of 
patronage and kindn< ss under circumstances that made a 
lasting impi'ession. The jears I passed there, after the loss 
of my leg, gave me a most excellent opportunity of judging 
of their iJ-ood qualities of head and heart. Left at the close- 
of the war with all gone npon their land, save their houses,, 
the}' w^ent to work and in a few years they had rebuilt their 
barns, fenced in their farms, and removed the very ear- 
marks of that struggle which dealt with them more severe- 
ly as a conntry than any other in the State, save around 
those great centres of the seige and of the heavier lighting. 
And yet now they have done more to regain what they lost,, 
and in a better condition, all things considered, than any 
other district in the South This shows the reproductive 
element of the Valley people ; the vim and energy with 
which tliey go to work to renew and to rebuild. Passing 
along that noted pike from Winchester to Staunton, a few 
years since, on every hand the prospect had none of the 
lino-erino^ marks of the war that still lino;er aronnd and 
about other districts, and like ghosts that will not down, yet 
haunt the spot where they were embodied. The only excep- 
tion in this beautiful valley is tlie town of Harper's Ferry, 
and the ver}^ spirit of decay and ruin seems to have doom- 
ed it to a lingering seige of the demon of war. There, on 
all around and about it, its houses, streets and buildings 
still wear the faded and war stained dress that that ruinous 
struggle cast over them, and there seems not spirit enough 
left to the place itself to cast them off. 

Poor, unfortunate and war-draperied Harper's Ferry 1 
May the spell that has bound you in its strength soon depart. 
All the other towns and villages of this beautiful country 
have shaken off the spell of the war, and to none but a 
close observer can now be seen any of those heavy traces 
deepl}" marked by the ruthless hand of tlie invader, wlio, 
unsatisfied with the work his passing and rei)assing armies 
had done, would not quit this land, where they found none. 



but true and loyal hearts, till they invoked the aid of that 
last of all resorts even to savages — the free aid of the fire 
fiend ! 



In one of tlie heavy fights of tliis campaign, on the 12th 
day of May, ^\'hen tlie enemy had made a heavy charge 
npon onr lines, they were repulsed with great slaughter of 
life and loss of prisoners. The Colonel leading this charge 
in front of my regiment was killed, and coming upon him, 
as he lay among the dead and wounded, I took his sword, 
which was a tine one, and his pistol. The sword 1 gave to 
Col. John D. Lilly, a gallant and noble soldier, and tlie pis- 
tol to Lieut. Ash Grinnan, of the 13th Virginia. Li a min 
nte or two after, in a repetition of the former charge, he 
shot and killed a Union (>flicer with it, in a hand to hand 
encounter with him, and directly afterward Grinnan was 
shot dead with the pistol in his hand. Lieut. Tip Strother, 
of Culpeper county, a brave young officer, who was close 
by, t(jok this pistol from off Lieut. Grinnan, and a minute 
afterward was badly wounded whilst liolding the same pis- 
tol in his hand. Tlie fatality of this weapon ended here. 
John Turner, of Culpeper county, got it from Strother, and 
returned it to me, the orginal captor; so that in less than 
fifteen minutes and in the same flight and almost in the same 
place, no less than four different persons were killed or bad- 
ly wounded whilst holding it or with it. 

And here we will give a veritable affair that liappened in 
one of our marches, whilst Genei'al William Smith (or Ex- 
tra Billy as he is called) was in command of our brio-ade. 
The order came from General Early to General Smith to 
fall back. General Smith, speaking in all his usual warmth 
and expression, gave the command to fall in and march off, 



and ended bv sa^'ing if we din't hurry up he would inarcl 
off the regin^e'it and leave everj^ d — d one of us. 

At Spotsylvania Courthouse, on the 12th of Ma}^ in rear 
of the Stonewall brigade, an oak tree, fourteen inehes in 
diameter, was entirely cut off by bullets, no cannon being 
used at this point. This tree was seen by many who still 
live to bear witness to this fact. We have on several occa- 
sions seen trees, not so large as this one, cut down by the 
bullets, the number of them necessary to do sucli work be- 
ing of course unknown, but probably thousands were requi- 
site, from which mav be formed an idea of the number 
flying through the air in a heavy light. 


At the second Manassas a shell was thrown from the War- 
renton road, a few minutes after General Ewell received 
the serious wound tliat resulted in the loss of his leg, in 
Company C of the 52d Virginia. Captain Byers, which kill- 
ed and wounded eigliteen men, se\en of them having been 
killed on the spot. Among the wounded by this fatal shell 
was Col. James H Skinner, of Staunton, Va., commanding 
the 52d Virginia, who was afterwards wounded at Gettysburg 
and rendered blind for several months by the dirt and gra- 
vels thrown into his eyes by the bursting of a sliell upon 
tlie ground in his inmiediate front. In the battle at 
Spotsylvania Courthouse, in which the 52d was engaged, 
Colonel Skinner was shot through both eyes by a musket 
ball, and after this serious wound our regiment was com- 
manded by Colonel Watkins, of Rockbridge county, a young 
and gallant officer, who was killed whilst bravely leading 
his men on the 30th of May, 1864, at Eethesda church. 

Coloiiel John D. Lillv, of Staunton, then took charge of 
the 52d Virginia, and in one of the many tights in the 
Spring of 1804, on the 19th of May, he lost his hand. Col. 
Lilly, like all the commanders of the 52d, was greatly 
loved by the men, and was a brave and efficient officer. 


The losses of our brigade in officers and men were heavy, 
and in the Bethesda church fight we h)St 450 men out of 700 
who went into the fight. We went into this desperate battle 
commanded by a brigadier, who, with onr four colonels, 
were all killed or wounded during the day, and after the 
fighting the 250 of our brigade still left in the ranks was 
commanded by a captain. The record of this brigade was 
a good and brilliant one, and it did some of the best fight- 
ing and service of the war. As a command it never failed 
to do its duty, and its colonels and generals were all distin- 
guished as efficient officers and some of them as statesmen. 
Its record during the war would be an interesting and fa- 
mous one, and we hope some one of its surviving members 
will yet collect and publish its war history. 


Whilst on the subject* of war anecdotes, we are reminded 
of one that occurred in which we figured whilst suffering 
from the wx^und in our ankle, received a year or more pre- 
vious. At the terrible conflict of the two s'reat armies at 
Sharpsburg, and after the fighting had reached its greatest 
intensity, the color-bearer of my regiment, one of the 
bravest and best spirits in the 52nd Virginia, was killed in 
one of the many fierce charges of that memorable battle, 
and in the excitement and hurry of the advance, the battle- 
marked flag lay upon the field in the clasp of the heroic 
yo'.ith, who only parted with it with his life, the regiment 
in the meantime passing on. Observing the fall of our 
colors, I quickly unclasped the staff from the hand of the 
dying youth, and soon gained my place in the ranks of my 
command, with the torn and bullet-scai-red flag once mor^ 
proudly waving over the brave boys of the gallant 62iVdP 
Shortly after the firing in our front ceased, and whilst 
awaiting future developments 1 picked up a canteen, which 
had been dropped by some one of the enemy, and only 
knowing that it was full of some liquid, and not troubling 

122 ■ 

myself at the time to ascertain the kind and nature of its 
contents, placed it on my shoulder, and in a few minutes 
was aiiain hotly contesting the advance of a fresh body of 
the enemy, who undertook to regain the ground lost by 
those whom thev had reinforced. In this eno^asrement the 
flag staff was stru(;k by a ball, whicli carried the colors out 
of my hand, the bullet passing thrungli my clothes on the 
left side, grazing my flesh, and I thought, from tlie stinging 
pain, peculiar to gun shot wounds, whicli followed, inflicted 
in my side a severe, perliaps, serious wound. In fact, I 
supposed myself badly wounded, and started to the rear to 
be out of the rain of balls, that tilled the air all ai-ound, in 
order to take proper care of the wound which, from the 
pain I was sufleiing, I thought needed looking after, and 
from the quantity of what I took to be blood running down 
my person, I naturally supposed was bleeding very pro- 
fusely. Reaching the protecting side of a hill, a few hun- 
dred yai-ds off, where, for the time! was safe, I met one of 
the officers of my (command on his way to the regiment, 
and, in answer to whose inquii-y as to what was the matter, 
replied I was badly wounded, and pointed him to the 
stream running ivom mv side which, bv this time, had 
cc)mplete]y saturated my clothes from my waist even down 
to my feet. He undertook for me the oftice of the kind 
Samaritan, and, soldier like, to make an examination of my 
wound. Imagine my surprise and astonishment when, on 
a close inspection, he exclaimed : " Why, old fellow, it is 
molasses ! " 

It is but just to myself to add, that the hall Avhich had 
grazed my flesh had gone into my captured canteen, which, 

aknown to me, was tilled with molasses, and, it beino- a 
v^rm day, tliat fluid had acted the successful part of blood, 
,,nich I was sure it was, and, fiom the (juantity, led me 
to believe came from a bad wound in my side. I at once 
rejoined my command, rejoiced to know of my easy 
recovery, though not a little cliagi'ined at the mistake I had 
so lucklessly made, which, as may be easily supposed, soon 


boeame generally known, and, with the nsnal tnrn for sport 
and love cf tlie ridiciilons, wliit-h never forsook the soldier, 
became the soiu-ce of no little amnsenient for them, and, at 
the same time, quite as much of chagrin for myself, the 
nnvvitting instrument of tliis little bit (»f cam[) gratification 
to them. I received the colors of the regiment from Lieut. 
Paxton, of company F, who had picked them u]) when 
struck from my hand Though I was struck, and thouoch 
tlie pain from it was severe enough to insure the presence 
of a pretty fully developed wound, yet no occasion of its 
repen'tion was suffei-ed to pass by the fun-loving and joke- 
seeking men in camp ; and I do not recall any of the few 
fortunate subsequent times, when we regaled ourselves on 
molasses, but it was the standing invitation on such occa- 
sions to ask me to |)aitake of some blood. Ah ! well, it is 
all over now, and whilst I ouuht not to reo-ret having: been 
the means of affording some little feast of the soul to the 
men whose feasts of the body were generally scarce, even 
when they had blood to eat, yet I solace myself now, as 1 did 
then, in knowing it was but a natural, however ridiculous, 
mistake, and, at this distant day, can scarce restrain a smile 
that approacheth a grin, when 1 remember it all, and how 
I felt when I knew my wound was not so bad a one after all, 
and that I was more scared than hurt. This was the only 
wound I received in the great Sharpsbnrg tight, and was 
truly (me, indeed. I had often heard that " ao-e ain't 
nowhere, but blood will tell ;" but after this little contra- 
dictory evidence of my own, I have been led to believe 
that, however true it may be as to horses, the fitness of lo ' 
application stops with them, and has no truth when spokt.-i 
of the blood of man. 

Like the demoralized Eebel at Fisher's Hill, in the great 
Valley of Virginia, during the hasty and precipitate retreat 
of the Sonthei-n soldiers from that memorable field, who, 
when besought in all the eloquence and warmth of patriotic 
de^'otion by that great and truly piii-e and noble son of the 
Old Common wealthj our distinguished General Jubal A. 


Early, who was vainly trying to stop the nncalled-for panic 
of his men, to quit running and rally, replied with a ready 
quaintness and aptness to the general state of demoraliza- 
tion around him, "Nary rally. General," so do we, in 
remembrance of our little episode at Sharpsburg, say to 
those of our friends, who would feel inclined to repeat the 
joke of that occasion for special rehearsal, "Nary blood, 
my friends ! " For, you know, all these things have happily 
passed away, and the blood that so freely was shed by me 
on that remarkable occasion was all shed for my country, 
though it was furnished ready to hand for me by some one 
of my then hostile, but now friendly countrymen, and that 
it was as freely shed as though it had been all my own, which, 
was done on more than one other occasion, both before and 
after I mistook the copious deluge of the contents of my 
canteen to be the veritable liquid itself, though not by any 
means in such flowing abundance, nor yet in such gushing 

It is sweet to die for one's country, or, as the old Latins 
put it : " Pro patria mori pulchra est^ yet it fell to our lot 
alone to materialize both the kind and the quantity of this 
sweetness, not in dying for my country, but by illustrating 
that, even in being wounded for the sake of country, there 
may be a good deal of honor and a large quantity of sweet- 
ness brought to light and experienced. 


The subject of this sketch, a son of William Dudley, was 
'member of the 49th Virginia Infantry, left the home of 
his parents in the early part of the war, and became one of 
the best and choicest of solders. 

Wnere all were brave and willing in the discharge of 
the arduous duties of the camp and field, we may truly 
say William Dudley was no exception to the character 
of the Virginia soldier, but was, indeed, one d the very best 
in an army where bravery was the general rule, and to be 


one of the very best was a character, in itself, of which any 
might well be proud to boast. He was quite young, scarcely 
seventeen, when he joined the army, and, from the time of 
his eidistment till the period of his untimely death, he was 
at once distinguished for the kindness and amiability of his 
disposition, no less than for his superior qualities as a soldier. 
Always at his post and ready to do all his duties, he never 
manifested uneasiness under restraint or lost confidence in 
the cause he had so willingly espoused. At all times he was 
to be found with his company, wherever it was called, inspir- 
ing his comrades by the buoyancy of his spirit, and cheering 
them to greater exertion by his example. In one of the 
many charges and counter-charges, which daily were fought 
in front of Petersburg, and on the same day Lieut. Anderson 
was killed, William Dudley, while with the sharp-shooters, 
w^as struck in the head by a shell which killed him at once. 
He died at the post of honor and of danger, whilst doing all 
in his power in the cause of his country, and his name, young 
as he was, will be reverenced as one of the brave spirits whose 
life was given for the cause he could not save and which he 
loved so dearly. He went to join that noble, that immortal 
band of heroes of the South — 

"On Fame^s eternal cemping ground, 
Their silent tents are spread, 
And glory guards with solemn round, 
The bivouac of our dead I " 


Among the many brave and patriotic of the young men 
from Rappahannock, who gave their lives to the cause and 
sealed their devotion with their blood, were many whom wo 
would gladly mention by name and ofter our tribute, poor as 
it would 1)0, to their memories. But this, we are now unable 
to do, in the absence of necessary information and facts re- 
quired to do justice to their names. And, here, we beg to 


say, that thonfifh we have been unable to obtain sketches of 
their lives and deeds, yet they are none the less woi-thy to he 
placed an.ongand with the few whom we ai'e enabled to men- 
tion in this ho.ik, as the full peers and worthy conii-ades. not 
only of them, but of all who fought and died in the gieat 
cause of the South. Tliey are none the less lionored because 
their names ai'e not given in this h(jok, or in any book. 
They live, and will live, in a more enduring and wortliy 
character than any my humble pen could foi-ni for them, 
in the enduring entahlatures of the hearts of their fellows 
in arms. Their beloved South will never forget them so 
long as worth is respected and merit receives its reward; 
and whilst we wouhl most wiliinu^ly add to the iinper- 
ishaVde memory of their names, our Immhle tril)ute, still 
theirs is a far better and more lasting measure of praise than 
we could offer, even though we had tried. The soldiers of 
liappahamiock were a brave, worthy, and deserving class of 
men, and none could surpass them in theii* dcNotion and 
soldierly merit. They had their equals, but none were their 
su[)eriors. To have excelled them would have required 
efiorts and powers, more than mere human ; to equal them, 
did require ail that the best and truest of the many sons of the 
old State could do ; and when the full history of their deeds 
and merit shall have been wi-itten, none will boast a better, 
a fairer, or a fuller meed of honor among that great roll of 
our fallen braves, than the men who gloiied in hailing from 
the mountain girt and well-watered lands of the county of 
old Rappahannock. They live, and will live, in the hearts 
of all true and brave men. 

Lieutenant Anderson had not reached his majority when 
he was killed, and whilst we deeply i egret that he was not 
spared to his career of usefulne>s and to his friends, still 
the fact he liNed a good soldiei'in a cause he deai'ly loved, 
and for which he sacriticed his young life, is a source of 
comfort to the many who knew him and respected him for 
his worth. His was one of th(»se brave spirits who feai'ed 
no danger when it lay in the line of his duty, and whose life 
was a true and noble one, both as a citizen and a soldier. 


Among the many whom we monrn and regret their early 
loss, none excelled Lieutenant Anderson in the heauty and 
snhliniity <>f his devotion and |)ati'iotisra, and none had more 
endeai'ed themselves to tlieir comrades in arms, by tlie hon- 
esty and uset'idness of their li\es. 

It is sweet to die for one's country, and our fallen braves 
will never be for<»-otten, bv tiiose who knew them, for their 
worth and merit 

Lieutenant Joseyjh Andei'son was one among tlie first wlio 
hastened to respond to the call of his State, and fired by all 
the enthusiasm of his young and bonyant nature, gladly en- 
tered the lists of the bi-ave sj)irits of his country men, while 
the fact of his being from tlie county of Rap|)aliannock, was 
full assurance that knowing his duty he wouhl be I'eady 
and willinjj; to do it. Lieutenant Anderson was one of the 
true spirits, whose presence among his men was always to 
be relied on, and whose judgment and tii-mness seldom 
failed him. Yountr as he was, scai'celv more than seventeen 
years old, when he was elected to the responsilde office of a 
I'ieutenant, by his comi-ades and companions; his youth had 
been spent amid country scenes and sports peculiarly fitting 
him for the camp, v/hilst his quick mind and ready judg- 
ment, under the difficulties surrounding the duties of an 
officer, at once o;ave him the full contidence of his men so 
necessary to the efficiency of all organized commands. He 
was remarkable, no less for the ease with which he accom- 
modated himself to theduties of his office and of the soldier, 
than for the readiness with which he performed the many 
trying and severe demands that fell to the part of the South- 
A ern soldier. His bravery was witnessed on many a trying 
occasion ; and the skill with which he acted his responsible 
part gave promise of future usefulness and proiiciency. 
Like many of our soldiers, he was cut down when he 
had acquired a reputation that was Well known, not only in 
his own company, but was beginning to mark him as one of 
those brave and efficient spirits who had risen from mere 
force of his worth and usefulness. 


He was not spared to realize this promise, nor to return 
to the man}' of his friends and relatives among whom he was 
a general and beloved favorite, in one of the heavy skirm- 
ishes in front of Petersburg, he was mortally wounded 
whilst in command of a line of sharp-shooters, who had ad- 
vanced upon the lines of the enemy, lie died as he had 
lived, in the perfoimance of duty, and facing the enemy, 
before whom he had never quailed, and whom he had met 
and fought on many a bloody field. 


This gentleman h st his leg whilst bravely cheering on 
the men of the Ttli Virginia infantry at the second battle of 
Manassas. Iiis brother, Captain Swindler, was one of the 
biave officers in command of the famous cavalry of Ashb}^, 
afterwards commanded by Kobertson, Jones, and Rosser. 
Lieutenant Ed. Walden died of disease contracted after the 
first battle of Manassas, in which he bore a brave and con- 
spicuous part. 

Captain \Vm. Moffett, after his return home at the close 
of the war, began the practice of law in Washington. He 
died a few years afterwards from disease caused by expo- 
sure in the field. As a soldier, he was brave, true, and 
greatly beloved by his men. He gave great promise of 
success in his profession. 

Captain ilobert Duncan lost an arm in the Valley of Vir- 
ginia whilst in command of his company in the 7th Virginia 
cavalry. In addition to this, he received four or five other 
severe wounds, and was well known for his conspicuous 
bravery and individual daring. 

Habney Eastham, a son of Frank Easthara, was wounded 
"^ye times whilst with his cavalry company, and is now dis- 
abled in one of his aimsfrom the efi:ects of aojun-shot wound. 

Charles Deer was one of the most dai'ing members of 
Mosby's command, and was engaged in many of the great 
raids of his distinguished chieftain. He was severely 
wounded at different times. 


But we have not the time to speak of all the soldiers of 
Rappahannock. To do so, would require more time and 
space than we can spare, and, besides, such is not the object 
of our book. 

The writer is not familiar enou2;h with the war record of 
the different commands from the county, and their memi^ers, 
to give a full report of their names and their brilliant deeds, 
lie has been unable to get anything like a list of names, and 
those of whom he has spoken, have only been taken at ran- 
dom from the many others equally deserving of mention, but 
to go into even a recital of their names would require more 
space — even if we had them — than we can give. 

They all belong to the great roll of Virginia's fallen 
braves, and their deeds and memories will never be forgot- 
ten. Their record is woithy of a better pen and nobler 
tribute than I can command, and, besides, their deaths and 
I names were best honored in the enduring memory of their 
State and their fellows in arms. Each succeeding spring, 
when the warm days of the lengthening sun bring into 
beautiful life the opening flowers of the sunny Sonth, upon 
the graves of each of our fallen braves is lovingly laid a 
floral tribute bv the gentle hand of onr honored women. A 
more beautiful, more suggestive and more fitting remem- 
brance to the fallen heroes of the South, could not well be 
found ; and so long as this yearly honor is paid, which we 
trust may long continue, so long will the men, who fought 
and died for the cause they could not save and a country 
they s(^ dearly loved, live in the hearts of not only their 
^contemporaries in time and in suffering, but by all their 
descendants, who learn the tale of their devotion and death, 
and proud of their ancestry, hasten to offer their simple, but 
heartfelt, tribute in memory of the sleeping heroes of the 
sunny South. How careful we should be to perpetuate a 
custom so touchingly beautiful, and which is doubly dear, in 
that it owes its origin and inception to the ladies of our own 
fair and lovely land of the South. They flrst gave this cus- 
tom to the world, and like all the works of their fair and 


pure hands, is wortliy the perpetviafion of ao^es, and does 
honor alike to the feelino; and hearts of tlie livina', as well as 
a touching]}^ beautiful homage to our dead. 


And now my readers,! will n<>t tire you with anything 
more as to my life and its nps and downs. Yom have already 
had enough of it, and I now close by hoping I have not 
proved altogether uninteresting. 

The task has been a hea'ier one than I anticipated, and to 
pay me for the tr()ul>le, I irust I may sell a great manv of my 
books, and for this purpose will call on my friends in Kap- 
pahannock and elsewhere. 

The sketch of Barbee, the sculptor, which closes my book, 
is the offei'ing of one of his many admirers, which I trust 
may awaken some interest towards the paying of some suita- 
ble honor to liis memory. 

As a worthy and distinguished son of our county, we should 
be proud of him and of his fame. Artists are not so many 
that we cannot })ay them deserved honor ; and since, of the 
few of whom our country can boast, our good county of Rap- 
pahannock can lay claim to one of the best and worthiest, 
we may well boast ol our fellow-citizen and country man, 
who did so much to honor himself, and in honoring his own 
name, left us tq^mard and cherish it. 


The subject of this sketch, William Randolph Barbee, 
was born in the county of Rappahannock, Ya., about the 
year 18 — , in a house which stands on the very summit of 
the Blue Ridge and directly on the side of the road lead- 
ing from 8perryville, at the eastern base of the monntain, 
to Luray, the county seat of Page. His father, Russell 
Barbee, i-aised a laige family in this house, and for many 
years kept a house of private entertainment. All the pro- 


diice at that day was carried in wagons to Fredericksburg, 
Ya., as far west as Shenandoah connt}^ and the proceeds . 
arisino; from the stopping of tlie numerous wagons at his 
housed contributed in no small degree to the support of tlie 
family ; the farm itself being a rough mountainous one, 
only small, detached parts of which were capable of culti- 
vation, and then only for such grains as are grown on such 

i ruo;o;ed heioi;hts. 

William Randolph Barbee received no education save 
such as the then countrv schools afforded, lie al tendinis these 
in tlie winter months, and helping at home during the rest 
of the year. 

His talent for art early developed itself, but received no 
encouragement nc^r culture till he almost arrived at his ma- 
jority ; numerous evidences, however, of his superior art- 
talent are still remainino; in the liouses of his manv friends 
, of that da}', in the names, elegantly engraved, of the own- 

4 ersof little home trinkets, he taking gieat pleasiii-e in tlius 
developing his ta'entand at the same time contributing no 
little to the gratification of his friends. 

At this time he would eno-rave with threat skill and taste 
all the silver-ware, ornaments and jewelry of his acquain- 
tances, and there is now in the possession of a lady of this 
county a irold thimble witli her name ele2;antlv eno-raven on 
its surface, the youthful handiwork of tlie young aitist. 

Besides this, not a few of his young days were spent in 
cutting and forming figures of various kinds out of the soft 
and tractable mountain slate, some specimens of which, of 

1^^ a peculiarly tit kind for the purpose, were found in abund- 
' ance among the rocks surrounding his home. Speaking of 
this period in the development of his great genius, which in 
a few years "was to i^row into the full measui-e of his crown 
ing glory, a fi-iend, who still survives him, says : 

At school (one of the mountain nuj'series for the tj'aming 
of the youth of that day.) William was constantly sui-pri- 
siuff and deiiiihrin<i: his comrades by the shapiiiiz; and foi-m- 
ing of new and wonderful figuies and images, whilst many 


of us, with clialk and knife in hand, would gather about 
him, trying with all the zeal and skill of which we were 
masters to imitate him, but all to no purpose ; for whilst he 
with quick and dextrous chipping would in a few minutes 
bring out from the pliable slate any object which at the 
time happened to engage his attention or strike his fancy, 
the rest of us try as we would only succeeded in cutting 
away our blocks, and in despair soon knew that none but 
William could make what he wanted. And then his ser- 
vices were always in demand for the gratification of his 
comrades, and many an hoar, when he was supposed to be 
diligently conning his lessons, his knife was as busy as his 
mind, though both needed no incentive, in the employ of 
his associates. 

Of the many proofs of his skill and ready genius thus 
made, may here and there in the neighboring houses still 
be found a few, as carefully kept as household gods. One, 
a figure of the idol in the back part of Mitchell's geogra 
phy, is a perfect fac simile of that heathen divinity, the 
horror of all the younger children. Not following the by 
no means easy career of our artist from this time till his 
name was known by his works, we will only say that he was 
unknown as an artist till after the elapse of some years, 
when he finished tlie "Coquette," which was at once recog- 
nized by the world as a mark of no ordinarj^ merit and ex- 
cellence, but one evincing genius which classed its author 
among those composing the small list of true artists. Un- 
fortunately, at tliis time his parents were in no condition to 
advance the ambitious aims and hopes of their talented 
son, and no systematic means were at his command to reg- 
ularly prosecute his art culture. Yet he was not idle, never 
unoccuju'ed or despondent, but all the time indulging the 
aims for the future he was not permitted fully to enjoy. 
The seeds of an insatiate and incurable disease having been 
early implanted in his system, and, like those whom the 
gods love, he was doomed to an early death — a death that 
came too early for his name and his fame. Eemaining at 

1 oo 


bis home, surrounded by all tbe natural o-randeur of tlie 
finest mountain scenery in the Old Dominion, which could 
not fail to interest the young artist, be was married in the 
year 18 — to Miss Mary McCoy, of Page county, an esti- 
mable lady, who, with several children, still survive him. 

Sometime in the year 18 — , Mr. Earbee determined to go 
to Italy, thereto pursue a regular art course of study in the 
best schools of that famed country, and to be surrounded by 
the best influences, pi-eparatoiy to the execution of tlie de- 
signs long formed in his own mind. It was during his stay 
in tlmt country that his genius, heretofore crude and untu- 
tored and lacking system, asserted itself and gave tliat cer- 
tain evidence of that renown tliat so quickly followed. 
Here he finished the "Coquette" and "Fisher^Girr'— and 
the name of Barbee began to be knovrn. 

Their reception in Europe was most encouraging and flat- 
tering, and were there regarded as marvels of art creation, 
and for first pieces of exceeding beauty of conception and 
fine execution. 

On liis return home, and having opened a studio in Balti- 
more, his "Coquette'' and "Fislier Gii-l'' at once f>ecame the 
admiration and delight of many wlio were fortunate enough 
to see them, their reputation as gems of art having preceded 
them and tbeir author, and though he bad rested his fame on 
these two, he had already gained a name unsurpassed by 
any other modern artist as pieces of first execution. 

These lovely creations, instinct almost with life and ra- 
diant with beauty, are tbe pledges of wliat he would have 
done when his studio had been fully completed and liis ca- 
pacities more developed. 

As first pieces we do not hesitate to say they stand unri- 
valled, and to this day have stood tbe test and trial of years, 
without loss of any of that just standard of excellence so 
unbesitatingly awarded. His tbird work was left unfinish- 
ed, and he died leaviug the model in clay, bequeathing its 
transfer to tlie marble to other but no better bands/ lie 
named it ''The Lost Pleiad," and upon it be had bestowed 
long and laborious thought, labor and study. 


Upon it be intended to rest his reputation as an artist, and 
tlie design is said, by critics, to be indescribably beautiful — a 
real art gem, chaste and singularly true and correct in its 

This work was most reluctantly abandoned by Mr. Barbe£, 
whose rapidly declining health and great suffering compelled 
him to quit his studies, drop his chisel, and seek in tlie quiet 
of his mountain home and the scenes of his youth, that health 
which wns never to return; and so was lost to art and his 
country the final execution of his best and most studied piece, 
one of the meiits of which was that it was the choice and 
favorite of 1^s gifted autlior. 

The beautiful myth wliich gives the history of tlie loss of 
the ei<>:hth star in the Pleiad, and describes her as a lovelv, 
yet sad wanderer from the company of her se\en sistei-s, 
and a i-estless fugitive fi-om the place wiiere they now 
twinkle and shine in all the splendor and radiance of their 
starry home, to be forever a lonely, lost one through the 
trackless space of the heavens. This gave to its author the 
conception of his ideal — as original as it was unique, as beau- 
tiful as it was in strict keeping with art. Unhappily for us, 
and the world, "The i.ost Pleiad" of Barbee can never be 
what its author would have made it, but uniinished. it 
remains a companion in name and in fate of its unliappy 
original — lost, too, like she, and never to take its place in 
tliat niche in the gallery of fame, which could never be tilled 
by another had its unfortniuite author lived to have trans- 
plantt^d his ideal to the enduring marble. It was during the 
time he was prei)aring to Hnish The Lost Pleiad, that Mr. 
Barl)ee was attajked by that fell destroyer and enemy of 
man, the cancer, and from the period it made its first appear 
ance on his ear, he j)assed hut few days, and even hours, of 
comj)arative ease and quiet. This cancer eat away the flesh 
rapidly, and each day his sufferings increased. The great 
pain he suffered sorely tried his strength, and his general 
health, never gt)od, gave way under the severe ordeal through 
which he was passing. He now gave but little attention to 


his profession, whicth he loved with all the ardor of his great 
devotion, but at times, when compaiiitively quiet, he spoke 
of his unfinished piece witli all the fei'vor and adinii-ation of 
a father describing the traits of a beautiful and adored child. 
His whole soul was wrapped up in his love (jf art — his great 
aim the fiuisiiino; of The Lost Pleiad 

Barbee's drivs were full of pain and hopes unfulfilled, and 
though spent among the friends of bis youth, and surrounded 
by his family, yet the destroying cancer that was fast eating 
away his life, with a sure and rapid progress, and the know- 
ledge it was to work the desti'uction of all- tlv* many and 
cherished aims for the future, could not but make him less 
cheerful than what he was known to be by the many warm 
friends who love i him so dearly. He died a victim to the 
insasiate disease that took away his brother in fame and 
in art, the lamented Crawford, whose picture of Lil)erty, high 
up in the summit of the dome of the Capitol, speaks a living 
evidence of his genius and talent. Both these i>:ifted Vir- 
o^inians and devoted art scholars, died in the verv youth of 
their glory and in the zenith of their fame, the victims of 

From the first appearance of the cancer till Barbee slept 
in death, nothing would stay its progress, nothing give i-elief, 
nothing check its painful and rapid growth, and he died as 
he had lived, a good and Christian gentleman, wedded to his 
art and andjitious of his fame and name. As a man he was 
as prominent in all the nobler qualities that end)el]ish and 
adorn private life, as he was gifted and successful in ait. 
Thoroughly unselfish and amiable, living a life of quiet and 
industrious prosecution of his profession, he was as much 
admired and beloved by the many who knew him in his 
social hours, as he was honored and respected for the eminent 
genius and success » f his art career. In his manners he w\as 
gentle and affectionate, strongly devoted to his family and 
thoroughly domestic in his habits, though steadfast and reso- 
lute in the manly discharge of alibis duties, and conscien- 
tious in the full measure of all Jiis obh^ations. He was un- 


swerving in the line of his conduct, and uncompromisingly 
true to every demand in the quiet walk of life — truthful, 
res<^lute and manly — a true cliild of art, who adorned his 
daily life in the same degree he advanced and dignified the 
cause and works of art. His life was a bright embodiment 
of all that is lovely in the human virtues. There was no 
ii'nile nor malice in his character, and thecontr»)llino^feelino^of 
his life was love — love for his fellow man and love for his art. 
His mental endowments were strong, his accomplishments 
liberal, and his travel and observation extensive; and these, 
together wi^h his bright and genial nature, made him a 
charming and an entertaining companion. None left his 
company without regret, and the final parting from him 
caused pain and sorrow in the hearts -of a multitude of 
mourning and admiring fiiends. His posthumous work, 
tliough, without question, the best if finished, still what he 
has left are living evidences of his great genius and art suc- 
cess — these require n(tthing more to declare him one of the 
gifted sons of his natixe State, honored in the purity of his 
life and known by his fame and the greatness of his genius. 
Barbee was a true lover of good, true and the beautiful ; an 
enthusiast in his art, and delighting in an aesthetic realm. 
He detected the beautiful, whether in art or in nature, and 
wherever found, worshipped it with all the ardor of his warm 
and devoted nature. His mind was forever going out. into 
the realms, alone congenial to souls like his, where it could 
revel in delight amid scenes of beanty and of grandeur, 
laying, as he did, in the prime of life, and when he had but 
just educated himself for an art work, with many designs in 
view, and with work laid out to take years of earnest 
thought and arduous labor to complete, he quit this life, 
leaving a legacy, in his unfinished work, to his brotliers in 
art — a bequest yet unfulfilled, and "The Lost Pleiad" is 
still lost — a foundling yet unadopted. 

It may yet be a labor of love as well of professional pride. 
f(^r his son, to whom has descended much of the art genius of 
his father, to take up this unfinished work and transplant the 


beautiful ideal to tlie enduring marble, where it can be seei. 
and admired by the woild, and many are now anxiously 
awaiting this aecom[»lishmei]t with no little anxiety and 

We trust it will be done by his son, f(jr he, of all others, 
will feel that pride in the work a son has for the name and 
memoi'y of his fatlier. '• The Coquette" is now in the posses- 
sion of Captain John Meem, the owner of the princely Mount 
Airy estate in Sh.enandoah (county, Va. A little accident 
hai)pened to it a few years ago, by its falling from its pedes- 
tal, by which the little linger of the right hand was broken — 
one, hap|)ily, that was easily rej)aired, and the statue now 
stands perfect, the mischief haviiig been s<> skillfully repaired 
as not to be detected. "The Msher Girl" is at the art o^al- 
leries of Myers & Hedians' in Baltimore, Md. Barbee lies 
buried within a few rods of tlie home in wb.ich he was born 
Passing aei-oss the Blue Kidgo, a short while since, my atte; 
tion was attracted by a rough stone enclosure, rudely bull, 
and close to the line dividing the counties of Ivappahannock 
and Page. To the left of it, and about half a-mile, almost 
perpendicularly up, stands "Mary's Kock," a well known 
peak with its romance and history, the highest point of the 
Blue Kidge in the State of Virginia, and, perhaps, of tha 
long line uf blue mountains. This humble square of moun- 
tain granite, which but lately took the place of one of rails, 
encloses the grave of Barbee, the gifted scu.ptor of V^irginia. 
Here he sleeps after a short, but remarkably bright career — 
sleeps on the very summit of that mountain where his e 
were iijst opened ; where his youth was spent and where 
died. His humble grave, unmarked and unmarbled, the only 
tribute to his memory, high up in the clouds, and where, for 
half the year it is hid by the snows and invisible even to th 
passer by, is scarcely seen save by those who know his historj 
and go to visit the humble grave of Barbee; and they, ir 
wonder, gaze upon it and ask why one so good, so gifted, an^ 
so famed in art, should sleep beneath ! Over it the mountaiii 
winds sweep and howl in undisturbed and unbroken free- 


There is no silence like that of the tomh, but that which 
broods over the last resting |)lace of Barbee, is a silence 
indeed. His old lionie, a f.vv rods off, is tni'ning and tnin- 
blinu:; to speedy and certain decay witliout a staying hand, 
'lis no longer tlie comfortable and happy home it was — and 
sti'ani2:ers now iidiahit it — where once was the resort of 
sight seekei'scome to view the giand and sublime expanse of 
liill, and the valley ^tretching away in the f ir distance. 

His woi-ks live, though Barbee is no more. We cannot 
close this sketch without, remarking the fact. that artists, as a 
class, especially of modern days, seem special victims to early 
deaths, and that so many die of that fearful scourge the can- 
cer. Crawford, cat off in the vigor of his life ; Rhinehart in 
the zenth of his glory, and Barbee in the prime of his fame. 
Of all these eminent Americans, Bai'bee al >ne sleeps in an 
tumble and unmai'ked grave ; and now that a tardy justice 
IS at last done ciedit to Poe, may we not hope a suitable 
..lonument will soon be erected over the grave of Barbee; 
ami whether ^ niarble shaft, on the summit of the mountain, 
or in the valley, it is due to his memory and to his genius. 



^^ ^1